Scars On The Heart: an Escaflowne Continuation
by Sarah-neko
Summary: A continuation of 'The Vision of Escaflowne,' with Serena Schezar as its heroine. (Serious spoilers.) A complete story.
1. Chapter One

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

Oh, make me over  
I'm all I wanna be  
A walking study  
In demonology

- Courtney Love, 'Celebrity Skin'

"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have tremendous impact on history."

- Dan Quayle

**Chapter One**

On Serena Schezar's first day home, she slept for many hours and did not dream. Her brother kept a vigil by her bedside, as a knight knows how to do, and wondered at the tranquillity and purity of her sleeping face. He had placed her in her mother's bed, for although she still had a bedroom in the old house, the bed was a child's, and when he had taken her to it early that morning, still asleep after the carriage ride through the night, warm and limp and heavy in his arms, he had realised she was too big for it. 

After a good-sized space of time, which Allen could only have measured in terms of how far the bars of shadow and light from the window moved across Serena's pillow, the door opened quietly and Gadeth put his head into the room. He was a little uncomfortable in the Boss' grand house, as were all the men of the Crusade. As you walked through the guest quarters and gardens of the house, you might find many a man surreptitiously trying to clean his teeth with a fingernail or polish the toes of his boots on the backs of his trouser legs. But until further notice this was where they were, so they just had to grin and bear it.

'Boss?' Gadeth said, hesitant to disturb the stillness of the room. 'A messenger just came from the city. The King's feeling a bit better and the Princesses want you to come right away.'

'But I need to be here,' Allen said, a little vaguely. The greater part of his attention was still on his sister. 'If she wakes up alone she might be frightened.'

'Boss, at this point I really don't think it would be a good idea to ignore a royal request. Because at the moment that's what this is, "the Princesses Elise and Millerna request your presence post-haste." They'll make it a command if you keep them waiting. And I don't think she' ... he gestured towards the bed, unsure of how to refer to the Boss' sister ... 'will be waking up any time soon. She looks to me like she's settled down for a while. We're all here, and of course we'll send to you if there's any change.'

Allen turned to look at Gadeth. 'I would normally never ask this, Gadeth' he said, with a doubtful frown, 'but can I trust my crew? Now, in this situation? You all know who and what she was. We don't always treat our prisoners of war as well as we should. I know what happens sometimes "payback."' He said the word with a little distaste. 'Revenge' had its place in a knight's vocabulary, but 'payback' was _infra dig_.

Gadeth's face went blank, and Allen realised he had insulted him. 'Well, sir,' he said formally, 'she is not officially a prisoner of war, as I understand the term. What she is, sir, is your sister, and as long as you say she's your sister, none of us would harm a hair of her head. And if anyone even looked as if he was thinking about it, I'd personally come down on him like a ton of bricks. Sir.'

'Forgive me, Gadeth,' Allen said. 'I spoke out of worry, and I did you all a disservice. To have her back after so many years I think I'm just afraid that I could lose her again.'

'We understand that, Boss,' Gadeth said, relaxing slightly. 'But she'll be totally safe as long as we have anything to say about it.' He was still standing awkwardly in the doorway, so he took a step into the room to leave the door clear for Allen when he got up from his chair. Another man might have moved stiffly or said 'ow' after so long sitting still, but Allen merely stood in place for a moment, took a last look at his sister, touched her hand which lay on the pillow by her face, and turned smoothly to go. Gadeth was about to follow him out when he turned again and held up one hand as though to stop him.

'Please sit with her,' he said. 'Keep an eye on her and let her want for nothing. If you need to leave the room for any reason, get someone responsible to take your place. And if she asks for me, tell her I'll be back very soon and she is not to worry.'

'Yes, Boss,' Gadeth said. 'If you go now you can be at the palace in time for lunch.'

Allen did not need to say anything like 'I trust you, Gadeth.' The idea passed between them in a look, and the knight left. Gadeth went to the bedside and sat down in the chair Allen had just vacated. It was not a particularly comfortable one, but he expected the Boss hadn't noticed. He returned it to its place at the late Lady Schezar's dressing table and trundled over an armchair that stood by the window. Then he settled down.

It was interesting to get a chance to have a good look at her. Her face really wasn't the same as Dilandau's, although of course people looked different when they were sleeping. Younger and softer, usually. Many times, when walking through a barracks late at night, he'd been amused at the baby faces of men who, when awake, considered themselves right hard bastards. But no, the face was more delicate in structure, and although the hair was closer to grey than golden, it had a slight curl. The eyes were the clincher. Of course he wouldn't wake her up just to get a look at her eyes, but he still wondered.

Her closed eyelids flickered slightly, and her lips parted in an inaudible sigh. Dreaming, then. He wouldn't like to know what sort of dreams someone like that had.

On Serena Schezar's second day home, she woke up at about eight in the morning. Strong sunlight lanced in through the tall windows of the bedroom and made blocks and bars of gold on the quilt. She lay quite still, and blinked, and wondered what would happen to her next.

'Good morning, Serena.'

She turned her head slightly to look at the speaker. It was her brother, Allen, sitting by the bed in Mother's armchair, the Story Chair it had been. _I remember Mother. I remember Allen. I remember sitting all together in that big chair, him perched on the arm and me on Mother's knee, and hearing about the boy who bounced, and the lion in the meadow, and the witch in the cherry tree. I remember all these things. They are in my mind again._ Allen was smiling, a golden, gentle smile to match the sunbeams reflecting off his hair. The smile creased the corners of his eyes, and for a moment she thought she saw tears. In the dazzle of the sun it was hard to be sure. With the light behind him, his face was in shadow.

'Good morning, Allen.' That was an easy beginning.

'Are you feeling all right?'

'Yes I think I've finished sleeping.' She began to sit up, and he immediately rose to arrange the pillows behind her, to support her back. When he had made her comfortable, he leaned over and pulled a bellrope that hung from the bed's canopy.

'Someone will bring your breakfast soon,' he explained. 'I want you to eat it all, and get strong, all right?'

'I haven't been sick,' she said in some confusion, 'have I?'

'Well, no,' Allen admitted. 'I was speaking to you as if you were an invalid, wasn't I? But you must have been very tired to sleep so long. You need a good meal. Cook will make all your old favourites; she remembers.'

'That'll be nice,' Serena said, and the conversation promptly dropped dead. She looked at her hands on top of the quilt. Allen continued to smile at her; he seemed unable to stop. He sat back in the Story Chair. He didn't look quite like the adult Allen Schezar she knew, and she realised after a moment that this was because, while he had always presented a face of strength and readiness to Dilandau, now he looked tired, and a little messy, as though he had spent the night in his clothes. And he was letting her see his private face, and he was happy to be with her. It was like being given a big present, that you haven't asked for, and don't think you particularly deserve. She cast about her for some way to reciprocate, or at least show her gratitude.

Allen thought he must be feeling almost fatherly about Serena; he thought she looked adorable with her sleep-tousled hair sticking out in some places and clinging to her head in others. It was passing strange to compare this feeling with his attitude as a small boy; he had liked her well enough, and of course he had loved her, but there were many times when she had been annoying or useless or too messy or too dumb to be any fun. Being a little sister, she could be taken for granted, picked up when it would be easy to play with her and easily avoided when he had had enough of her. He had never known how precious she was. She was too thin; he'd definitely have to feed her up.

'Have you stayed with me the whole time?' she asked.

'Nearly the whole time,' he replied. 'I had to go out for a few hours yesterday, but Gadeth looked after you for me and I came straight back as soon as I could.'

'What did you go out for?'

'Just some palace business. You don't need to worry about it.'

'Gadeth's your sergeant, isn't he? The tall man with blue-black hair?'

'That's the one.'

'I don't know very much about him, but I'm sure if you like him he's a good man.'

'He's one of the best men I know.'

There was another awkward pause.

'Thank you for taking care of me,' Serena said.

'You don't need to thank me,' Allen said. 'It's natural for me to do it. You're my little sister. I'll always take care of you.'

'But still, you would want to know I was grateful, wouldn't you?' Serena said. 'Even if you do something for someone without wanting or expecting anything back, you still want to know they appreciate it.'

'I suppose that's true,' Allen admitted. There was a soft knock at the door. 'Come in,' he said. A woman entered carrying a tray, the kind with small table legs on either side that you balance over the lap of a person sitting up in bed. On it, Serena could see a tall glass of pale green-coloured fruit juice, a small bowl of fruit salad, a toast-rack holding four triangles of buttered toast, and a large bowl of porridge with honey drizzled over the top. The woman set the tray down, bobbed a curtsey and started to leave.

'Thank you,' Serena called after her.

'You're welcome, my lady,' the woman said, curtseyed again and left the room.

'Is everything how you like it?' Allen asked. 'I think there's a surprise for you there.' Tucked into the linen napkin rolled around a knife and two spoons was a pretty blue daisy.

'A serenity?' she said, touching its petals and recalling the word from childhood.

'Your flowers,' he replied. 'The bush you planted is still growing in the garden. It's always full of bees.'

'Who was that lady?' Serena asked. She did not remember her.

'I think her name is Mackie,' Allen said. 'You wouldn't know her, she's only been here two or three years. Aren't you hungry?'

'I am,' Serena said, realising it was true as she said it. 'I'm ravenous.' She unwrapped the cutlery and dipped her spoon in the milky porridge, scooped up a nice big dollop and put it in her mouth. The reason she'd always liked porridge was how full it made you feel, not just after but while you were eating it. Her cheeks bulged around the warm mouthful and she had to let it settle for a moment before she could begin to swallow. A very little dribble of milk escaped from between her pursed lips and splashed back into the bowl. She realised, with some confusion, that Allen was looking at her aghast. She swallowed, and the porridge went down, taking its load of warmth and comfort down her throat, spreading its heat through her chest before reaching her stomach.

'Did they, ah, did they feed you well in the Dragonslayers?' he asked politely.

'Quite well,' Serena said, a little thickly. 'There were always lots of vitamin supplements and things, to make us strong. Hormones, too, I think, to accelerate our growth. The whole thing was supposed to make a man of you as fast as possible. Breakfasts were never as nice as this. We had to eat these sort of compressed bricks of cereal. We were allowed as many of them as we wanted, but there was only so much milk to go round, and we being growing boys were always hungry so we ate a lot dry. And you've got no idea how bad they were dry. It was like a test of courage. My record was eight in a row, and everyone was scared of me.'

Allen looked a little unnerved by her himself, but he quickly put away that expression and asked 'What were those things you said they fed you? Vi-something?'

'Vitamins? Haven't you got those here? Well, I mean you would have them, they're in food naturally already, but you don't know what they are?'

'I'm afraid I've never heard of them.'

'Oh. Well, it's things like' She picked up the glass of juice. 'This would probably have lots of vitamin C in it. That's good for your skin and it stops you catching colds. You know scurvy? Well, you get that from not having enough vitamin C in your diet.' She sipped it, and winced. 'It's sour, so yes, probably full of vitamin C. Citric acid.'

'Oh. That's very interesting. I knew fresh fruit prevented scurvy, but I didn't know what was in it,' Allen said. He looked deeply uncomfortable for a moment. 'Serena you didn't say "whores," did you?'

'What? No! No, my gosh no. Hormones. They're like chemicals that make things happen in your body. Boys turn into men because their hormones send messages to their bodies about how to grow, things like that. Everyone's got them, everything alive.'

'It sounds as though the sorcerers of Zaibach knew a good deal more about how the body works than our philosophers and physicians do,' Allen said.

'I guess so,' Serena said, and took a bite of toast. She didn't wish to dwell on that. At the moment she was successfully Not Thinking About It, which meant it only heaved and bulged underneath all her other thoughts like foul gas under heavy layers of mud in a marsh.

'And well, I'm glad it wasn't what I thought you said. I'm sure you can understand I wouldn't want to hear my sister use a word like that.'

'Hell no. We weren't supposed to have sex at all. Although some of the boys, well, you've been in the army, you know what goes on.' She stopped, trying to read the expression on his face. He looked sort of frozen. 'That goes on in every army, doesn't it? If there are no women around, and people get'

'Please don't talk like that,' he said urgently. 'I don't wish to hear about it.'

Serena frowned, puzzled. 'But sex is just part of life. It's necessary for life to go on. Well, not that kind, but -'

'I'm warning you, Serena,' Allen said. He spoke gently, but seemed really disturbed. 'You should not speak that way. And now that you are here, you should try not to think that way. It isn't suitable for a lady, nor would I say such thoughts were appropriate for a gentleman. I don't know what you were taught in Zaibach, but you need to put those ideas behind you. This really is the best way, for your safety and happiness.'

'All right,' Serena said, confused and unhappy. She had had no idea she would offend her brother. Obviously people were a lot more inhibited in Astoria. Not that society was exactly free and easy in Zaibach, but perhaps people were franker. 'I'm sorry. I'll try.' She ate a little more of her porridge. Allen seemed to have calmed down. 'Do you want to know whether I did it?'

'No!'

'I didn't.'

'That's that's good, but please, try to forget about it.' _These are simply vestiges of the old, implanted personality,_ he told himself. _It's fading out gradually. After years like that, it's only to be expected that she can't shake it off all at once. I need to be patient and understanding, and soon she will be a normal girl again. And, thank God, it seems she has not lost her virtue. That's one less thing to worry about. Although her table manners need drastic work. She uses a spoon like a shovel._

Serena finished the porridge, and considered tipping the bowl up to drink the last of the honeyed milk in the bottom, but thought perhaps this would bother Allen. She carefully put the larger spoon in the bowl, picked up the small spoon and started to eat the fruit salad. It had an interesting mixture of sweet and tart flavours. You got the best effect if you made sure each mouthful had one of the little red bits in it; they were delicious. Morganberries, that was their name. They were her favourites. 

Some memories were at the top of her mind, and easy to access; others only came to her if they were prompted. Taste seemed to be a good cue. She had been distracted by their conversation while she ate the porridge, but now she remembered many breakfasts when she had eaten the very same things, or some of them, because a breakfast with all these things together was a special treat, for birthdays or name days or Starmas. She had had fruit salad like this on picnics, too. She remembered being in a hammock between two trees, sharing with Allen, jostling slightly for legroom and eating a whole bowl of morganberries that they had picked earlier. When she was small, picnics had almost always involved picking something, flowers or berries or mushrooms, so that she had thought that was where the word came from. She always wondered why they never picked nicks, and what a nick was in that case. Allen had a friend called Nick in those days but he never came with them.

'How's Nick?' she asked.

'Who?' said Allen, apparently startled out of some reverie.

'Nick. Your friend Nick. He had one blue eye and one brown one and he was really good at rounders. I just remembered about him.'

'Oh, Nick,' Allen said. 'I'm afraid I don't know. The last time I saw him was perhaps two years ago. He joined an expedition to circumnavigate Gaea. They're not back yet.'

'Perhaps he's teaching the Pelonians to play rounders,' Serena said.

'The who?'

'Pelonians. Pelonia is the big continent on the other side of ... you didn't know that?'

'There's been speculation that there is another large continent, but that was one of the things the expedition was supposed to find out about.'

'Oh. Well, explorers from Zaibach went there twenty years ago. It's got a lot of good natural resources, but Lord Dornkirk decided it was more important to stabilise our position on this continent, then to expand upon it, before we started worrying about whole other landmasses populated only by primitive civilisations. The plan was to establish the Empire here, and then found colonies.'

_'Our' and 'we,'_ Allen noted. 'Well. It looks as though Zaibach has a lot to teach the rest of us. Perhaps now they'll be willing to share.'

'I expect Nick can tell you a lot when he gets back,' Serena said. She had finished the last of her toast, drained the juice, and was now twirling the serenity between her fingers. It was strange to think of an expedition thinking it was exploring new territory when really explorers had been there before; strange to think that they, and the Pelonians for that matter, probably had no idea of the recent events that had been important to everyone on this continent. 'What are we going to do today?'

'Anything you like. I think you should have a bath first.'

'I'd really like to just walk around and remember things.'

'Then that's what we'll do.'

On Serena Schezar's third day home, she woke up alone. After a few moments' uncertainty, she pulled the bellrope, and in a minute Mackie came in with another tray, this time with fried eggs and Fanelian bread. There was still fruit salad and green juice.

'Please, where is my brother?' she asked.

'Sir Allen had to go out very early this morning, on business to the palace, my lady,' the woman said. 'He said to tell you he probably won't be back until night. You're free to amuse yourself however you wish, and if you want to go out, Mr Gadeth will escort you.'

She bobbed again. 'Will that be all, my lady?'

'Yes, thank you.' Serena was left alone with her breakfast. It was the first time she had been properly alone since she came home. She had spent all yesterday with Allen, and it had been lovely, really it had, but she couldn't think in the same way when she was with him. It wasn't just what he had said about what she should not think about; he made her turn outwards to the world, and she needed to turn inwards to herself to think clearly. He had even sat beside her bed until she fell asleep at night, and goodness knew how long he had watched before going to bed himself. He was tiring himself out for her. Yesterday, when they had been sitting under the rilling tree by the river, he had become very quiet and she had realised he was sleeping, with his back against the grey trunk. He looked like a saint in his sleep. She had turned back to the river and let her thoughts run along with its green waters, and nothing much had come into her head for a good half an hour, until he had suddenly woken with a little gasp, and asked if she was all right.

It was hard to think. She remembered a time four years ago, when she was Dilandau. He had crashed his Guymelef, spectacularly badly, owing to a fault in the steering mechanism. Development of new technology went so fast, and was pressed ahead at such a pace, that they were often given new machinery to work with before it had been fully beta-tested, and sometimes serious flaws only showed up while the devices were in use. That was how Alaue Magenpie had lost his leg, off at the hip, and after that they didn't see him again. He was probably all right somewhere, but he wasn't a Dragonslayer any more. Guimel took his place, shy, sheepish Guimel, and no-one spoke about Alaue again.

Nothing so serious had happened to Dilandau, but he was knocked unconscious in the crash and quite badly concussed. There had been no permanent brain damage, but he spent the next couple of days drifting in and out of consciousness in an infirmary bed, puzzled at the way he couldn't seem to stay inside his own head. The feeling Serena had when she was with Allen was a little like that; it was hard to focus on any private thought long, before it slipped away from her like the north pole of a magnet when you try to press it against the north pole of another.

Even though the accident hadn't been his fault, he had still been caned when he got better, to teach him to be careful. What nice people. They waited until your injuries had healed before they gave you a big red and purple welt across your backside. And then they'd hit you, with great precision and artistry, across the same place again so it would hurt more. Dilandau had fiercely resented any alteration by others to his own body (not knowing that it was in itself an imposition of others' will) and had always been glad the scars were in a place he couldn't easily see, but whenever he had to sit still for any length of time he would get an odd feeling as though his heart were beating along the old lines, tracing the memory of his punishment and humiliation.

The scars were gone now; Serena had a fresh body. Her face was whole and unmarked. She had looked at herself carefully in the bath yesterday, without wishing to appear odd to Mackie, who appeared to feel that she had to attend her, and the only scar she could find was the little one on her shin from the time Allen had accidentally kicked her when he fell over ice-skating. Dilandau had not had that scar. Serena's body had a different history, different geography.

Serena finished her breakfast, without having tasted much of it. The juice, at least, had a strong, invigorating flavour. She wasn't sure what its proper name was, and realised that this was because she and Allen had always referred to it as Ordinary Juice, meaning the kind they liked to have every day. When they were taken to another family's house for tea and their hostess asked them if they would like tea or milk or any kind of juice, they would always say 'Just ordinary juice, please,' and for some reason it always got a laugh. There were a lot of alwayses in those days, patterns that repeated reassuringly.

_We always have milk pudding on Moonday nights; we always have a story before we go to bed; we always look for four-leaf clovers when we're in the meadow and we always watch out for lions. We always hope to see a lion but we suspect that only happens in stories. Mother didn't always look sad but now she always does. But she'll love us and we'll love her for always._

She put the tray on the other side of the bed and swung her legs to the floor. The bedroom had two doors, and she went to the one that led into the little bathroom. The bath was not drawn, but there was a large pitcher of steaming, scented water standing ready for her in a china basin. She took off her night-dress and had a standing-up sponge bath, and was rather glad that Mackie (was that a first name or a surname?) did not seem to think she needed supervision to do this, because it gave her the opportunity to make a more thorough inspection of the body she was still getting used to wearing. 

The difference she noticed most, oddly, was that her hands and feet were considerably smaller and more delicately shaped. In her movements, she felt that her hip joints seemed to be freer; she thought that she could, perhaps, bend in new ways. Then, of course, there was the matter of her breasts. It seemed positively weird to have these round weights of flesh on the front of her. It compensated for not carrying something elsewhere, she supposed. Dilandau had not been a great judge of women's figures and Serena felt she knew less, if possible. They seemed heavy to her, of course, but she didn't think they were much more than medium-sized. It would be impossible to ask anyone without a wretched degree of embarrassment. There was nothing wrong with them. Someone might like them one day. What an utterly bizarre thought. She put it away to look at another time.

Thank goodness, she had had no difficulty in going to the lavatory, because that at least was something she'd dealt with every day as a child. She was familiar with the equipment, although there had been superficial alterations. Probably, she thought, her sense of disorientation was not just because she had gone from a young man's body to a young woman's, but because she had not had the settling-in, gradually-growing period of puberty to get used to things like breasts. She was in at the deep end, as it were. Dilandau's schooling had included a basic grounding in human biology, since every citizen in Zaibach was required to understand science, and Serena could remember a few things from the chapter on the female reproductive system that she was not looking forward to.

This, she thought, might well come under the heading of things Allen did not want her to think about. Everyone had a body under their clothes, though. Dilandau had been very proud of his, and she supposed she should try to feel the same way about this one, and take good care of it.

Wrapped in a towel, she went back into the bedroom and started to dress. Again, Mackie seemed to think that now she had been shown once, she could manage by herself in future. This was true, and Serena was glad of it, because being helped into a brassière yesterday had been one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life. Now, after a couple of initial mishaps, she got the damn thing on. She hoped she was going to get used to it soon, because at the moment it was one of the least comfortable things she had ever worn. She had asked why it was necessary, and Mackie had suggested she hop up and down without one to find out why. The discomfort had been so immediate and startling that she had submitted without a murmur more. Obviously, for women as well as men, there were areas you just had to be extra careful with.

Wearing pantalets, the hated brassière and a camisole, Serena opened the wardrobe door and looked with something like despair at her mother's petticoats and dresses. Crinolines had gone out of style, it seemed, so no-one expected her to wear one of those hoop-and-horsehair monstrosities, thank God, but she had disliked the encumbering feel of layers of cotton, silk and lace around her legs, which Allen said were proper for a lady. She had worn petticoats as a child, but not many, and she didn't think she had liked them much even then. After years in trousers it was like going back to prison. On a whim, she took down the pale apricot silk dressing-gown, put it on and slipped out into the corridor. She knew where Allen's room was; he had showed her.

The door was unlocked, and she went in. There was a very slight smell of Allen's cologne in the room, which made it feel comfortable. She went to the closet, and the chest of drawers, and found a shirt she could wear and a pair of trousers which would be just fine if she turned up the bottoms and belted the waist tightly. The pantalets were too bulky to wear under trousers, since Allen seemed to favour rather tight legs, so she borrowed a pair of undershorts. He was her brother, for goodness' sake, there was nothing immoral in that. Well, except that borrowing without permission was technically stealing. But she was sure he wouldn't mind when she explained. It was perfectly reasonable to try to dress comfortably.

Serena liked what she saw in the mirror now. It was still odd to see the curves her hips made in the trousers, the more rounded, less angular look of her body overall, but at least her clothes felt right on her. One thing seemed to be missing, and when she looked across the room and saw a sword rack, she knew what. With a sword at her belt she felt fully dressed.

Allen had good cologne. The bottle stood on his dressing-table, amid a general jumble of hairbrushes, pomade tins and other accoutrements of a person who takes care of his appearance but not so much of the tools he uses to create that appearance. Perhaps, Serena thought, Allen was a little bit of a secret slob. He had never been tidy as a boy. She took out the chunky glass stopper and smelled lemongrass and rosmarain and other things whose names she didn't know, but they all smelled healthy and free. It was definitely intended to be a man's cologne, but she didn't see why she couldn't smell that way too. She could just put it on in a feminine way. Remembering how her mother had done it, she closed the bottle, tilted it to get cologne on the stopper, took the stopper out again and touched it to the inside of her left wrist. Replacing the stopper, she rubbed her wrists together, then pressed them both against the sides of her neck, just under her ears. It was a little ritual. The cologne felt pleasantly cold on her skin.

She felt ready to face the world and whatever it contained. She stood still for a moment, just listening. The house was quiet, not hushed quiet but peaceful, airy quiet. Birds were chirping outdoors and she could hear, faintly, the hum of a flying-ship passing overhead. She left Allen's room carrying the pantalets, dumped them on the bed in her mother's room, where she put on her socks and shoes, and headed downstairs and outdoors to the gravelled courtyard where she and Allen had walked the day before. She met no-one on the way. Allen had explained that there was almost no staff in the house at the moment, only a skeleton crew maintaining the place in his absence. 'Now that you're home,' he had said, 'of course we'll need more people. With a lady in residence, it will be like the old days again.'

The lady in residence scuffed cheerfully through the gravel amid the beds of lavender. It was a good day, a slightly breezy, sunny day, when the wind came in from the sea and told you about what it had seen on its journeys. The world seemed full of possibilities; a new life was opening up before her. She stood on unsteady, swampy ground, it was true, but perhaps the dark gases would stay down where they belonged and she could walk out into the meadows.

'Who are you, and what are you doing here?' Serena turned, surprised, to see who had spoken. It was Allen's sergeant Gadeth, the much-vaunted good man, with his hand ready on his sword hilt. His face lightened, then creased in puzzlement as he recognised her.

'Excuse me, miss. I didn't know who you were for a moment. I, er' he trailed off. 'Are those the Boss' clothes?'

'Yes. I'm just borrowing them for today until I can get some of my own.'

'Oh. Well, they, er, they suit you. Are you feeling well? Not tired any more?'

'I feel fine, Gadeth, thank you.' Their words were friendly and polite, but each was nervous in the presence of the other. It was only days since they had fought on opposite sides in the fiercest war either of them had known, and a sudden shift in the way the world worked had brought them face to face with no idea of how to behave.

She did not have Dilandau's eyes, Gadeth was relieved to see. There was something strange in her china-blue eyes, but nothing cruel or bloodthirsty. She was really quite a pretty girl, though it was a shame about what had happened to her hair, shot through with ashy strands. He supposed she would once have been fair-headed, like the Boss, and whatever she had undergone had aged her prematurely in some ways. She looked older than fifteen, but not quite an adult. A mixture of ages and impressions.

He looked like a kind man, Serena thought. He had the kind of wide mouth that seems to smile by nature, and friendly, honest eyes. One of Dilandau's little pleasures in life had been spying out the fear that lurked somewhere in the eyes of even people who tried to show no reaction to him. Serena still looked closely at eyes, and although there was uncertainty in Gadeth's, she thought there was a chance he might like her. She was surprised by how important it was to her now to be liked.

'Have you been with my brother for long?' she asked.

'Oh, more years than I care to think about. He's the best commander we've had. I don't know if you know much about our crew, miss, but we used to be considered pretty much rejects, and I get the impression that your brother was posted out in the swamps with us because he'd annoyed the King somehow. He never talked about that, though. He always acted glad to have us, as though he believed we were better than we thought we were, and I guess that made us try to be better. I used to be kind of a shitkicker myself ... sorry.' He looked embarrassed.

'That's all right. I've heard worse language.' Serena tried to smile encouragingly. 'He is the sort of person you want to please, isn't he?'

'He really is, miss.'

'You don't have to say "miss." You can call me Serena if you want to.'

'I don't want to sound disrespectful.'

'For someone who's used to being addressed as "sir," don't you think "miss" is kind of a come-down?' She meant it as a joke, but she saw it misfire, and cursed in her head when he looked at her oddly. To her surprise, the look changed to a smile.

'If you're walking around with a sword like that, I guess you're a knight. So I could call you Sir Ena without impropriety.' It was a pretty awful joke, but Serena laughed out of sheer relief.

'I challenge you to a duel,' she said. 'Come on. If I'm a knight you can be one too. Just a friendly.'

'What do we have to duel about?' Gadeth asked in mock indignation.

'The mortal insult to my honour of calling me "miss"! I will be avenged.' She drew Allen's spare sword. It was a little heavy in these arms, but she was sure she could handle it. Gadeth grinned, and drew.

'Have at you, then. Is that proper knightly dialogue?' It was a silly, stagey duel, because after the first couple of clangs and clashes each of the combatants began to do tricks. Whether this showing off was to impress or to entertain the other would have been hard to say. Serena's size and nimbleness gave her an advantage which she flaunted in the form of a series of backflips and pirouettes, performing complex, outrageous manoeuvres that always remained tightly under her control as she parried every blow Gadeth could come up with. This was the sort of exhibition fighting that the Dragonslayers did on feast days when they were trotted out as an inspiration to the masses. 

Dilandau had been thoroughly startled the first time he saw his own face on a poster. They had not been told beforehand about the publicity campaign and the first images used were simply from their file pictures. It was explained to him that now he was getting old enough to be handsome ... and this had surprised him at first, but the more he was told it was so the more he could see it was true ... his image was important, as were those of the other Dragonslayers, and could be used to encourage the ordinary people. They did not leave their training facilities often, but when they did so after Project Hero Worship began, there was always an eager crowd of people of all ages to watch and cheer them on.

'You are especially valuable,' someone had told him, 'because you are not only a fierce fighter but a beautiful young man. The camera loves you. Take care of that face. Your country needs it.'

A cold blade cut through that memory; an evil-smelling bubble of gas surfaced and burst in the swamp of Serena's mind. She staggered for a moment, and Gadeth considerately diverted the thrust he had just begun to make. The game was no fun if there was a possibility of really hurting her, he thought.

'Silly,' she said, quite gently, recovering and neatly disarming him with a sting to the inside of his wrist. It hardly scratched the skin, but it hurt. Gadeth stood wringing his hand and staring at her in amazement. She was breathing hard and her eyes were bright with triumph. With her own sword, she flipped his up in the air and caught it, then turned it and handed it back to him hilt-first, as you would politely offer someone else a pair of scissors, or a knife to cut their birthday cake.

'I didn't really hurt you, did I?' she said, in sudden consternation. 'I just well, you gave me an opening.' Serena, she had discovered, could not feel good about hurting someone physically, even if she thoroughly enjoyed beating them in a game.

'You're right,' he said, taking back the sword, 'I did. Underestimated you. No harm done. Let's go for it again and see if I can't improve on that.'

They were on about the third round of this running mock-battle, and Gadeth thought he had Serena at bay in a corner, although she was planning to duck out under his arm the next time he used a particular lunging motion he seemed fond of, when Allen entered the courtyard.

Summoned to the palace at a ridiculously early hour, he had then been asked to wait around in an anteroom for ages until a powdered flunkey had come and told him his services would not be required after all. On his way out he had cornered a lady-in-waiting, and using a brand of aggressive charm he was rather ashamed of, learned that King Aston was back on his feet and running the show. It figured. Last time there actually had been business to discuss, with the two Princesses, but clearly the King did not want Allen getting an inflated idea of his own importance. Or seeing too much of Millerna.

This morning had simply been an exercise in pointing out to him that King Aston was firmly at the top of the heap and he, Allen, was firmly beneath him. It was frustrating. As a knight, Allen would not have considered real disloyalty to Astoria (the past few weeks' shenanigans aside), yet the King seemed to hold him in constant mistrust. Even though his actions had been justified by what had come after, he was still being punished.

He had left the palace with the thought that at least he still had the afternoon free, and after lunch he could take Serena rowing on the lake, perhaps, or go through their old scrapbooks with her. Amid the chaos of the city, where efforts to help the people made homeless by Zaibach's attacks were carrying on alongside bustling reconstruction work, the idea of Serena had seemed like an oasis of calm. And here she was, dressed like a boy, a too-big shirt slipping off her shoulder, apparently locked in single combat with his second.

'Stop that!' Allen drew his sword and entered the fray, blocking both of them. He was expecting a real fight, and to his surprise they both lowered their swords at once and looked at him, panting. Serena pulled her shirt back into a more respectable arrangement, although her appearance was still disgraceful in Allen's eyes.

'It's all right, Boss,' Gadeth said. 'It was just a game. Sorry if we startled you.'

'A game? Do you consider it a game to attack my sister?'

'Don't blame Gadeth!' Serena protested. 'I started it.'

'What devil got into you?' Allen demanded. 'Why would you want to do a thing like that?'

'It was just for fun,' she said, a little sulkily.

'And why are you dressed like that? Mother's clothes fit you! You're wearing her shoes, for goodness' sake!'

'I don't like Mother's clothes,' Serena said. 'They're heavy and uncomfortable. I'm sorry I borrowed your things without asking, but you weren't here to ask.'

'Those are not girl's clothes,' Allen said obstinately. 'If you want new dresses, you can have them, but I will not have you running around in trousers.'

'Boss' Gadeth put in. 'Princess Millerna wears trousers sometimes.'

'There!' said Serena. 'If a princess does it, it must be all right!'

'Don't help her!' Allen told Gadeth. 'And I don't approve of it when the Princess does it either.'

'Well, I bet she doesn't care what you think. And if you're going to be like this about it, I don't care either,' Serena said hotly. 'I'm not a doll for you to dress up. What kind of sissy thinks that much about girls' clothes anyway? Guess what, Gadeth, when we were little he used to borrow my dolls.'

'I did not!' said Allen, outraged, and a little too quickly.

'Not that there's anything wrong with that,' said Gadeth, trying to be conciliatory.

'Go to your room!' Allen snapped at Serena. It would have sounded pathetic if he hadn't been pointing a sword at her. As it was, it didn't impress her.

'You're not my father,' she said. 'Then again, when did we last see the old bugger?'

'You will _not_ speak about him that way,' Allen said, and to her amazement she saw tears in his eyes. 'Go to your room, Serena, and we will talk about this when you can be sensible.' The Schezars stared at each other for a long, tense moment, and then Serena turned on her heel, put her sword in its scabbard and stalked off into the house. Allen went almost limp, then pulled himself together and put his own sword away. He gave Gadeth a clear, angry look.

'If she provoked you, I apologise on her behalf,' he said. 'But you should not have encouraged her in this behaviour. Serena has to adapt to a new life. If you stir up her memories of the old one, she can never become normal and happy. And I am amazed that you would take her side against me.'

'I thought she wasn't the enemy any more, Boss,' Gadeth said in a neutral tone. Allen pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. Suddenly he looked very tired.

'She is my sister, whatever else she may have been,' he said. 'Please, Gadeth please help me with her. I don't understand her.'

'Neither do I, I've got to say. Given that she's a woman, can you expect to?'

'Why do they take these freaks into their heads?' Allen wondered aloud. 'Wearing trousers, running off into danger without telling me I thought I knew how to make women happy, but they all want different things, and they're maddening.'

'Heck,' said Gadeth, 'I like 'em anyway.' Allen ignored that. He looked up at the house, where the curtains of Lady Schezar's window were drawn, and sighed.

'I'll leave her for now,' he said. 'She's probably still very tired, and needs some time by herself. Yesterday must have been overwhelming for her. This is just an adjustment period. Things will be better soon. I'll talk to her in the morning. I'm sure she'll be reasonable if I'm just calm and patient with her.'

On the morning of Serena Schezar's fourth day home, her brother went into her room and found that she had gone.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	2. Chapter Two

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

Every night in my dreams  
I see you, I feel you  
That is how I know that you go on

- Celine Dion, 'My Heart Will Go On'

Note to the unwary reader: I detest Celine Dion's songs, especially this one. Read on, and you will get the irony.

**Chapter Two**

Serena had the clothes she had fallen asleep in last night; she had the sword at her belt. It was good to take stock like this; it helped you plan. She did not have anything to eat or drink, any money or any warm or weatherproof clothing. That was okay. Dilandau had had a little wilderness survival training, and Serena certainly did not intend to do anything stupid like drink puddle water or go to a tavern and order food she couldn't pay for. 

She had simply walked out of the house. Very quietly, around one-thirty in the morning, with her mother's most solid walking boots in her hands. No-one had noticed her; they must all have been in bed, or at least in their rooms, because she could faintly hear music and voices coming from the guest quarters where the men of the _Crusade_ had been billeted. Someone could play the guitar. She had found her way to the front door, undone the bolt and let herself out; that simple. It seemed irresponsible to leave the door unlocked, but there were, after all, several strong men in the house. She had continued to walk quietly in stocking feet until she judged herself out of earshot of the house, well into the woods. Then she put the boots on and ran.

She wasn't as strong as Dilandau had been; she knew that, but it was still surprising and frustrating to find herself tired so soon. It probably didn't help that it was the kind of late at night that has become early in the morning, and that she had not eaten lunch because she was crying so hard and despising herself for crying, it had to be the hormones because Dilandau would rather have died than blubbed like that, and that she had only eaten about half a dinner because she had remembered her resolution to take care of her new body but had had very little appetite. There was nothing wrong with her muscles; they actually seemed quite sturdy. She just lacked energy right now. The food had been brought up to her room. There had been a note on the tray from Allen, in dapper copperplate writing, saying he hoped she was feeling better and would see her in the morning.

And she had looked at the note, so calm and kind, so reasonable and patient, perfectly willing to overlook the day's unpleasantness, and thought 'Stuff it.' After dinner she made herself go to sleep, and made herself wake up around one-thirty. Another handy-dandy skill from the Dragonslayers, so useful in the life of the modern young lady. And she had gone. That was that.

Serena was walking now, but determined to keep going. As the sky lightened, she stumbled into a small gully with a creek running through it. Because it was convenient to have a direction laid out for her, she followed the watercourse, watching it get broader and shallower. And then the creek turned a corner, and she followed, pushing her way through some shrubs, and she found herself standing at the back of a beach, with an unrivalled view of the sun rising over the sea. The creek ran down through the sand to join the ocean in a wide curving sweep. The sand was white and powdery. Serena climbed a dune and sat down to watch the sun the rest of the way up.

It was a deeply peaceful scene. No buildings were visible from here, although you could see the small cloud of seabirds that always circled over Pallas, and if you wanted to, you could imagine yourself in a pre-human world, where the sun and moons would rise and set forever with no-one to give them names or number the days. It must be... well, it must be past the middle of Indigo now, so next month would be Red, and she would have a birthday. Summer wouldn't last much longer after that. Serena stared out over the sea, sparkling wet silver like a fish's belly, with her legs drawn up in front of her and her chin on her knees. Despite the invigorating sea air, she was beginning to feel sleepy. Probably no-one would find her before she wanted to be found.

She had no particular plan for the next few hours or days; nor, for that matter, did she have any sense of what the rest of her life was likely to contain. To be honest, she would probably go back to Allen's house after a while, but she had to want to do that first and she did not want to yet. The sun was well up now, and she decided that sleep would be a Good Thing. Amid the dunes were shady hollows filled with sea lupins and dry golden grass whose star-shaped seed-heads dropped off from time to time, and bowled over the sand with the wind. Serena settled down in one of these, and let the hollow fill with sleep until she was immersed.

This had been a mistake. The nightmare was upon her again. It had come every night; she had not remembered it in the mornings but as soon as she was in it again, she knew of all the other times she had been in it, knew she had not been able to escape or improve things then, and that she would not be able to do it now. She was helpless.

The first thing was darkness, as thick and stifling as a black velvet blindfold. The next was pressure, all over her body, but feeling worst on her chest, where her heart beat and her lungs creaked against a weight she could not bear or believe. The next was the stink, and the wetness, and the knowledge.

She lay under the piled bodies of the Dragonslayers. Chesta, Gatti, Biore, Migel, Dalet, Guimel, all of them, a heap of broken flesh and bone with all the heaviness of death. Corruption dripped from them and splashed around her. Not on her. She could not see, could not move, because she was bound face to face, limb to limb, with the body of Jajuka. Cold, harsh, dead fur smothered her face. They were on the abandoned battlefield. She did not know which field, where; it was just the battlefield. They were all the same place after a while. This was the punishment for traitors. 

She could see nothing, but she could hear the high singing of many flies. She could feel the soft nuzzling of maggots against her despairing flesh. The smell was almost solid. Her heart was beating along the old scar, Dilandau's scar, but she was Serena, and the mark was upon her. She felt the skin of her cheek grow tighter and hotter and then it cracked and warm foulness dribbled into her ear and ran down her neck. She was rotting away while still alive.

The nightmare rode her, crushing her down into darkness and pain and fear until she did not know what she was or who she had been. She had always been pain and panic and guilt and shame. And still her heart beat, and still she lived as she underwent the pains of death.

After a time, the darkness of the nightmare dissolved into the harmless darkness of deep sleep, and Serena slipped into the safety of nothingness.

When she woke up, it was full, bright day, probably early afternoon. Seabirds mewed and wheeled in the sky above her, and she could hear the breakers roaring softly. Serena sat up with a little discomfort, and found that she had sweated heavily in her sleep, again. She wondered if she were sickening for something. At any rate, she had to pee, quite urgently. She made use of another hollow for that before heading down to the beach proper, and meandering towards the rocks at one end. This involved crossing the creek, and taking off her mother's boots. The cold water and swirling sand felt good under her feet. If you stood still in the flow, she discovered, you would sink down as the sand was carried away, heels downmost, until you were buried up to the ankles. Then you could pull yourself out, against surprising, sucking resistance, and find a new place to stand and let it happen again. This kept her amused for several minutes before she continued on her way.

The rocks were large, flat slabs of some pale grey stone. Here and there you could see the petrified ghost of some old sea creature in their surfaces. Serena found a good one, warm and smooth, which overhung a small rock pool, and lay on her belly gazing down into the tiny world that existed calmly a few feet away from breaking waves. There was a sort of small lagoon formed by a rough circle of rocks. Water from the ocean could run in and out through the spaces between them but the water inside was much calmer. The rock pool, at the very edge, was warm and glassy. She grew very still, until she felt like part of the stone herself. Oddly, she did not feel very hungry or thirsty today, so nothing disturbed her until the mermaid breached and hauled herself onto the rock beside her.

Each noticed the other immediately, and stared, but neither moved. The mermaid seemed to be hoping that if she kept very still she might somehow be removed from Serena's field of vision, and she would conclude that she had imagined the mermaid and wander off. Serena simply did not want to make the mermaid run away ... swim away, she corrected herself. There had been mermaids in some of her mother's stories, but for some reason she had never known they were real people. This one had long turquoise hair, and a beautiful, sad face, with eyes like green glass.

'Don't be afraid,' Serena said softly. 'I won't bother you.'

'Have you seen him?' the mermaid asked. Her voice was high and musical and chattering, like a dolphin's.

'Seen who?'

'I'm looking for my love he lived in the air but he found me on the land perhaps I can find him again. He set me free when I wanted to belong to him.' The mermaid mournfully pulled a hand through the tangles of her hair.

'I'm trying to get free from someone who thinks I belong to him,' Serena said. 'Well, in a way I do. We belong to each other. But he doesn't want me to be the way I am.'

'Is he your love?' the mermaid asked.

'No such luck,' Serena replied. 'He's my brother.'

'I only have sisters,' the mermaid said.

'Do they try to tell you what to wear and scold you like a child in front of people you were just getting to like you?' Serena asked.

'They swim, and sing, and drown men,' the mermaid said, matter-of-factly. 'I don't want to drown my love. I want him to swim with me. I would give him gills and fins and make him a merman.'

'Were you ever anyone else?' Serena asked. The conversation made little enough sense as it was, so she might as well speak her mind, because nothing made less sense than that. 'And then you were yourself again, and you could still remember what it was like to be the other person but you didn't have the same thoughts and feelings any more, so you and the person you used to be were all jumbled up in one mind?'

The mermaid looked at her blankly. 'I suppose that is kind of unique to me,' Serena said.

'If you see my love, will you tell him I'm looking for him?' the mermaid begged.

'I don't know his name or where he lives or what he looks like,' Serena said. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to recognise him.'

'Oh, you will,' said the mermaid with perfect conviction. 'Because he is the most wonderful, beautiful man in the world.' And with that she slipped off the rock and into the water and only a rippled smudge of colour could be seen, streaking away out of the lagoon, and a wet patch on the rock where she had rested, rapidly drying in the sun..

'Well,' said Serena to the world in general, 'she was weird.' The mermaid had made her feel lonely for human company. She wondered how she was going to spend the rest of the day, how she would fill the days to come. She'd have to get food from somewhere, and she still didn't have a plan for that. She didn't like the idea of killing anything, although she knew she could do it, and probably quite efficiently. She wanted to sleep again. It was a form of hiding. Even if, in the halfway moment between asleep and awake, she felt a fear she could not explain. _Sleep, and let hours of life disappear without you doing a thing. Sleep, even if your body is not tired._

And so she returned to her hollow in the dunes, and made herself comfortable once more. Sleep came so easily these days. Just on the other side of her eyelids in the dark.

She was awake, and it was dark, and she was not alone. Someone was bending over her and had his hands on her shoulders. Holding her down. It was as natural as breathing; she screamed 'Get OFF!' and kicked upward, caught him somewhere soft and middling, heard the breath rush out of his body and kicked again, taking his feet out from under him and rolling swiftly so that he did not fall on top of her. She grabbed for her sword and found to her horror that the belt clip had come undone and it was still lying where she had been sleeping. The man lunged up out of the hollow and grabbed her hands; she promptly hit him between the eyes with her own forehead. The result was that they were both dazed. Serena tried at least to pull out of his grip.

'Will you stop it? I'm not going to hurt you!' the dark man said angrily. 'An inch lower and you'd have broken my nose.'

'Gadeth?' Serena said in disbelief. It was a moonless night and it was impossible to make out his features, but the voice was distinct. 'Is that you?'

'I wish it wasn't.'

'What were you doing?'

'Trying to wake you up without startling you. That was a good joke.' He let go of her hands and sat down on the sand, rubbing his forehead.

'What are you doing here?'

'The Boss sent everyone out looking for you. It's pure luck that I found you. They're doing an aerial search with _Crusade_ too, but they wanted beaters on the ground to flush you out.' It was hard to tell, but she thought he smiled when he said that.

'He didn't have to go to all that trouble,' Serena said stiffly.

'Crap. You know him a little by now. What did you think running away was going to achieve?'

'Nothing,' Serena admitted, sitting down beside him. 'I wanted to be by myself for a while, and choose where I would go, and I wanted to upset him a bit.'

'Right, because you hadn't done _that _already.'

'He was unfair.' Serena pushed her hands into the night-cold sand. 'Didn't you think he was unfair?'

'I think perhaps he was a little hard on you.'

'He doesn't tell me what his expectations are and then he goes off pop when I let him down,' Serena went on.

'Think about how he feels.' Gadeth felt he was well outside his area of expertise here, but this seemed like a safe thing to say.

'I don't know how he feels, except he says he loves me and I don't think he likes anything about me.'

'Of course he likes you.'

'He thinks I'm weird.'

'Please don't be offended, but I'm sure you can see that you are a bit weird. It's your circumstances.'

'I'm unnatural.' She sounded almost tearful.

'Something unnatural happened to you. It wasn't your fault. They did it to you.' He realised as he said this that he believed it. He had started out just trying to comfort her, but it rang true in his ears. The girl couldn't be blamed. Dilandau was another matter.

'You like me, don't you? I thought you liked me yesterday.'

'Well, yes, I did.'

'Have you gone off me, then?' Spoken very softly and sadly.

'Well, I'm not thrilled with you for kicking me in the guts and breaking my head, but I think I still like you. What did you hit me with, anyway? It felt like solid rock.'

Serena giggled weakly. 'It was my head.'

'Jeez, sorry.'

'Of course it was my head. You were holding both my hands. What else could I have hit you with?'

'I'm not prepared to guess.'

'Serena Schezar, the girl with the Head of Stone.' She giggled again, with a little more spirit, but then she sighed. 'What are you going to do now?'

'Take you home, of course. The Boss is beside himself.'

'I don't want to go yet.'

'You'd rather hang around _here_?'

'Until morning? Please?'

'It'll take us a few hours to walk back, even going directly,' Gadeth complained.

'Exactly. And it'll be hard to find the way in the dark. We should both get some sleep.'

'I don't want to force you to come with me.'

'Of course not,' Serena said, crawling back down into the hollow. 'So don't.' She curled up, closed her eyes and waited to see what would happen. There was a pause, then a sigh, before Gadeth followed, and somewhat to her surprise, lay down with his back against hers. He felt large and warm and solid, a sort of living wall.

'In the morning,' Gadeth said, 'we are going straight home. I'm only letting you talk me into this because I've been looking for you all day and I'm tired. And if you're smart, you'll put on a dress and apologise to your brother.'

'You don't speak to me very respectfully any more,' Serena said sleepily.

'I'm very sorry, Serena-hime.'

'Go to sleep, Gadeth-ouji.' If he could be sarcastic, so could she.

'Good night, sweet prince, hmm?'

'Anything but sweet.'

'See you in the morning, princess.'

On the morning of her second day away from home, Serena Schezar woke up with sand in her left ear, which was, if nothing else, an uncommon way to begin the day. Both she and Gadeth had shifted position during the night, probably to keep warm. He had one arm around her; her head was on his chest. It was a position at which they had both arrived unconsciously, and thus nothing to be embarrassed or upset about, but the unaccustomed closeness of another body unsettled Serena. She wondered what would happen when Gadeth woke up. It was thoroughly comfortable to be held like this, at least.

She tilted her head and looked up at his face, bowed over her in another protective gesture. While Allen looked saintly in his sleep, like a marble statue on a tomb, Gadeth looked boyish, his slightly scruffy hair adding to this impression. It was only spoiled by the fact that he had missed a shave and it showed. She wondered if she should try to wake him. It would probably be a good idea. She took hold of the encircling arm and gave it a little shake.

'Gadeth.' He slept on. 'Gadeth, wake up, it's morning and we have to go home.' She jogged his arm again, and this time he woke up a little, blinked at her, said 'Sfar too early,' and closed his eyes again. After a moment he re-opened them. 

'Sorry,' he said, 'I always have to have at least that moment of rebellion. I hate getting up.' He seemed entirely unconcerned about their position. Gadeth sat up, letting go of Serena so she slid back, stretched, little streams of sand running off his clothes, and yawned hugely. He looked down at Serena and rubbed some more sand out of the back of his hair. 'How'd you sleep?'

'Well. I think I slept really well. I don't feel tired any more, and I was still feeling tired in the mornings before.' Serena sat up and began her own de-sanding process.

'Tha's good,' he said, and yawned again, so widely that tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. 'Better get going. It's a long walk, and I want food.' He got to his feet and discovered Serena's sword pressed into the sand in the depression his weight had made. 'I thought I was sleeping on something hard! Come on, then.' With that, he set off immediately over the dunes to the brink of the forest. Serena grubbed up her sword and scurried after him, trying to get it onto her belt while moving. Once in the forest, Gadeth looked around a little, found a blaze cut into a treetrunk which he must have made the night before, and started to walk purposefully.

'Wait a moment,' Serena said, hopping on one foot and pouring sand out of her mother's boot. He turned, stood still and watched until she was finished. His manner this morning was not unfriendly, but rather businesslike, and seemed strangely at odds with the apparent affection of the night. _Of course, I don't know him well enough to judge what his 'normal' behaviour is like._

'How old are you, Gadeth?' she asked as she caught up with him and they started off again.

'Two years older than your brother.' Serena added it up mentally.

'Oh,' she said. Then, 'Why don't you just say "twenty-three"?'

'Sorry,' said Gadeth, 'it was automatic. In my home town, there's a sort of superstition that you don't say your age directly. You always pick a point of reference, like "I'm the same age as the new bridge" or "I'm five years younger than Josha." And if you want to be really cagey, you say "As old as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth."'

'Why?'

'I don't know why. It's a superstition. It's supposed to be bad luck. I don't especially believe in that, but when you grow up with people who do and that's how they always say their ages, you get into the habit.' Gadeth looked around again, found another blaze, and changed direction slightly.

'I'm fifteen.'

'I know.'

'In Asturia, does fifteen still count as a child? In Zaibach, you're legally an adult at thirteen.'

'I don't think there's any actual law about it,' Gadeth said. 'Put it this way, if your parents were still alive, you'd be their responsibility unless you were married.'

'Maybe Allen is still thinking of me as a child, since that's what I was when I disappeared. Maybe he thinks there wasn't any in-between and I'm still like that inside.' Serena untucked her shirt and shook some more sand out of it.

'You're certainly not outside,' Gadeth commented. Serena felt a blush rising in her face and quickly looked away. 'I'd heard,' he went on, 'that before you changed back for good, you changed from Dilandau to ... well, you, and came to visit the Boss. And then you were like a child, one who couldn't talk yet and put things in her mouth.'

'But that's more childish than I was when they took me,' Serena said. 'I could talk just fine. I could tie my own shoelaces, I'll have you know. I can't really remember that. I have Dilandau's memories from either side of that time, but nothing during it. There are a few other gaps where I think my mind just got disconnected from my body, and my body went wandering on instinct. I don't remember anything from those times. And even Dilandau's memories from then are pretty confusing, because he was not in a stable mental state.'

'Was he ever?'

'He was very unhappy then,' Serena said slowly. This was another gas-bubble thought, but she was hoping she could ease it to the surface and let it disperse gently without bursting unpleasantly. 'He was lonely and confused and he was losing everything he depended on. There was a lot of physical pain nausea the body kept trying to change back by itself. There were pains in his joints, as though they were trying to come apart. And he'd been disfigured, and he was starting to find that he couldn't fight the way he always had. It was like he was losing himself as well. Before fighting was fire, and light, and a strong, pounding heartbeat, and knowing he was alive, and now there were times when he thought he'd drown in cold sweat, and he couldn't make himself move, and well, it was pretty terrifying.'

'And he went on destroying things and killing people,' Gadeth pointed out. 'Don't feel too sorry for him.'

'I don't feel sorry for him, but I understand him,' Serena said. 'I can't help that.'

'I feel sorry for you, then,' Gadeth said. 'I wouldn't want to share head-space with a maniac like that.' Serena looked up at him. Her expression was almost plaintive. Dappled green forest shadows shifted over it.

'I know you're not the same as him,' he said, relenting. 'I'm not accusing you. Anyway, Dilandau is dead and gone. End of story.'

'I think what people don't understand is' Serena paused for a moment to put her thoughts in order. 'Dilandau is important to me. I don't mean I love him or like him or really have any clear feeling about him, just that, well, I wouldn't be who and what I am if he had never existed, so I can't just cut out that part of my life and throw it away. I've actually got more experience of being Dilandau than of being Serena. So I can't forget him, especially when I can remember everything he could remember.'

'That sounds reasonable,' Gadeth said.

'And that's what Allen wants, to forget about it or more to overlook it. Do you know he told me I shouldn't think about life in Zaibach? And the other day he sent me this little smooth note, like "well, that was unpleasant, but we'll pretend it didn't happen" and I thought "but I _feel_ unpleasant. I'm not going to put it aside just because it doesn't work in your world." And it's as though people think of Zaibach as some kind of evil empire, and all right, we ... I mean they ... were doing some really bad things, but it wasn't full of evil people, it was full of _ordinary_ people. And there were some really good things about Zaibach.' Her speech was getting less organised as she tried to put words around ideas that were more impressions and emotions than coherent thoughts. 

'Still patriotic, hmm?'

'Well, there were there were the factories, and the farm mechanisation projects, and nearly full adult literacy. And full employment!'

'Ooh, even for illiterates?' Sarcastic again. Definitely not impressed.

'It was compulsory.' The words faded slightly as they came out of her mouth, lost their clarity and sureness.

'I thought it might be something like that.'

'Well, everyone had to make a contribution,' Serena said crossly. 'You don't modernise a practically mediaeval country in one man's lifetime without working hard.' It irritated her that Gadeth was looking so smug about not being from Zaibach, given the state of his own country. Of course, in a sense it was her country, more her country than Zaibach, since she had been born here.

'It was a pretty long lifetime, by all accounts. And I thought you said Zaibach wasn't evil?'

'I didn't say evil, I said mediaeval.'

'Only half evil?' Gadeth looked really puzzled. He knew he didn't understand what she meant, but he couldn't think what it might be.

'It means "of the middle ages."' Serena sought an explanation. 'It's in Comparative History. Lord Dornkirk always said that to work out the patterns of the future you have to look at how things went in the past. Not just the past here. He knew about history on the Phantom Moon, too, and the Middle Ages was a period one of their big continents went through after the Dark Ages, which came after the Roman Empire. They were very hot on the Roman Empire in school, because we had to learn why it was strong and why it failed, and how civilisation crashed and recovered afterwards. And we always had to apply what we were learning from history to present-day situations.'

'Like Zaibach being mediaeval?'

'Yes. Primitive. Fanelia is still a lot like that.'

'I always think Fanelia is quite a nice little place. Or it was.' Serena had nothing to say to that, so they walked on in silence for a minute or so.

'So he'd come into school and tell you this stuff personally?' Gadeth said suddenly. 'Dornkirk, I mean.'

'Good grief, no. The first time Dilandau saw him for real well, that was just this year, and that was projected on a screen. He'd seen his portraits, of course, they were all over the place. He always looked wise and kind. No, he wrote our textbooks. We had to work hard in the Dragonslayers, they had this thing about us being model citizens in every way. The sword and the book.'

'Do you know,' Gadeth said, 'you usually speak of Dilandau as "he," but you sometimes talk about "we" when you mean the Dragonslayers?' He was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. For no reason she could pinpoint, Serena felt caught out somehow.

'Well, I I get mixed up sometimes. But I'm sure I never say "I" when I mean Dilandau. Not any more.'

'No, you never do.'

'Well, then.' Suddenly, something hit Serena on top of her head, not painfully, but hard enough to startle her. Without needing to think about it, she drew her sword and shifted position, ready to fight. 'What was that!?'

Gadeth stared at her for a long moment. He seemed to be searching for words. No attack came.

'A, um, a bird,' he said, 'a bird went to the lavatory on your head.'

'It what?' Serena raised a hand to her head in disbelief, and touched something unpleasantly warm and sticky in her hair. She stared at the white mess on her hand. The sword dropped to the ground. 'Oh, shit!'

'Exactly!' Gadeth started to laugh.

'It's not funny!'

'Sorry, sorry.' He kept laughing. 'But you were ... you know, crouching like a panther, and ... and the look on your face when ...' He gave up trying to talk and laughed bent double, with his hands on his knees.

'If you can get this much amusement out of someone getting shat on, your life must be very sad,' Serena said, trying to get the cack out of her hair and off her hand at the same time.

'I know, isn't it tr-tragic?' Tears in his eyes now. 'Hey, don't wipe it off! It's meant to be good luck if that happens.'

'Good luck? You think it's good luck when something craps on you? I make my own luck!'

'How ungrateful, when the bird just made some for you!'

'Oh, stop it! Stop laughing at me!' She wasn't really mad; more pretending to be, though she wasn't sure why. She swatted at him with her clean hand. 'Cut it out!'

'Ow! Help! Vicious girl! What've you got against me, anyway?' He was grinning; this was another game, a friendly fight. She took another swipe at him and he caught her by the wrist and held tight. She was ready for that, and quickly reached up and dabbed the messy hand on his cheek.

'There, have some luck.'

'Oh, yuck! Thanks a lot.' He wiped his cheek with his free hand, then wiped the hand on his trouser leg. The other hand was still holding Serena's wrist, so she could not move away. She found that she didn't mind.

Their eyes met.

Something's going to happen, Serena thought. Her heart was beating wildly, the kind of thumping beat that for Dilandau meant he was about to have a damn' good fight. For her, now, she was unsure what it meant, but she would be happy to find out. Gadeth bent towards her, his face suddenly uncertain; almost preoccupied, but definitely focused on her. Of course. He's going to kiss me. Do I shut my eyes? I want to see, though

'Hey! Sarge! There you are! You found her!'

They both turned, almost guiltily, to see Teo stepping out of the underbrush. The big man was really a Melef pilot, although in armour he almost looked like a Melef himself. He was beaming all over his face. 'Gotta keep hold of her, huh?'

'Uh, yes,' said Gadeth. 'Never know what she'll try next.' He kept his hold on Serena's arm, stepped toward Teo, pulling her after him. 'Come on, young lady. Your brother will be worried about you.' Serena was speechless with indignation. _What about my kiss?_

'He's gone out in _Crusade_ himself,' Teo reported. 'He's pretty upset all right. Come on. I've got a horse waiting near here, and I brought a spare one in case.'

'That's something,' Gadeth said cheerfully. 'We'll be home in no time.'

'No time' was two and a half hours. Serena spent the first hour sitting behind Gadeth on the spare horse trying to hang on around his waist. After that he declared that he couldn't take being squeezed much more, and made her move in front of him in the saddle. That way they were both squashed, but at least no-one looked likely to fall off.

'So that wonderful Zaibach education didn't include the noble art of horsemanship?'

'Dilandau was an ace pilot, not a cavalryman.' Serena shifted unhappily. 'This bump is digging right into me.'

'That is what is technically known as the pommel.'

'Oh, is that what you call it.'

'You'd rather ride sidesaddle?'

'God no, I really would fall off.'

Gadeth glanced over at Teo, who was riding several yards ahead of them. He leaned over Serena's shoulder and said in a whisper, 'You don't need to be angry with me. It wasn't my fault he came along then, and what was I supposed to do?'

'I don't wish to discuss it,' Serena said coldly.

'Fine,' said Gadeth, 'suit yourself.' He really sounded as though he didn't mind. Serena was dismayed. She was unclear about the rules of the game she was trying to play, but she was sure that wasn't how it was supposed to go. What was she supposed to do? The rest of the ride passed in silence, increasingly uncomfortable as the sun grew higher in the sky.

When they reached the house, it seemed deserted. Teo took the horses round to the stables, and Gadeth and Serena went in at the front door. Serena was walking awkwardly.

'I don't know how you stand it,' she said. 'That was the worst ride I've had in my life.'

'My lady?' Mackie ran into the entrance hall. 'You're safe! Thank goodness. I'll send the gardener to find Sir Allen.'

'Can the gardener fly?' Gadeth asked.

'No, Sergeant, the _Crusade_ returned about an hour ago, and Sir Allen is searching the maze in case she went in there and got lost.'

'How silly does he think I am?' Serena wondered aloud. Then, 'There's a maze?'

'One of the best in the country, my lady,' said Mackie. 'It was installed five years ago as a gift from the Princess Elise.'

'Ooh,' said Serena. 'Could I have a look?' She loved mazes; always had. She was quite sure of that.

'No, you could not,' Gadeth said. 'You can go upstairs and get cleaned up and dressed. I've had about enough of you.'

'The feeling is mutual,' Serena said. She stalked off upstairs.

'And get the shite out of your hair!' Gadeth called after her. She didn't reply. He watched until she had rounded the bend at the top of the stairs and disappeared, then made his way to the guest quarters in the other wing of the house. He went into a bathroom, in a disgraceful state because someone, not appearing to realise that there were staff here who could do that sort of thing for him, had done his laundry in the bathtub. There was no hot water, so he filled a basin with cold, washed his face and made a gloomy attempt at shaving. While he was working at the difficult bit just under the nose, Baile wandered in, and seeing him, grinned.

'Heard you brought her back,' he said, and headed for the commode. Baile was the sort of man who didn't care what you saw him do, and would talk to you quite cheerfully all the time he did it. He dropped his pants and sat down. Great, thought Gadeth, a little more squalor in my day. Somehow he found this immeasurably more objectionable than what had happened with Serena.

'I just got back from a sweep of the fields and Teo told me. All right, Sarge!'

'Yeah, thanks,' said Gadeth, distractedly.

'The Boss'll be pleased.'

'M-hm.'

'It ought to make up for earlier.'

'You mean the fight?' Gadeth asked, rinsing lather off the razor. 'I think he realises that was nothing serious.'

'That's not the way I heard it,' Baile said.

'And what did you hear?'

'I heard that you were doing the nasty with his sister and he caught you on the job. You two had a big fight and she got upset and that was why she took off. You were gone for a while. Didn't hurry to bring her back once you found her, huh?' Baile leered.

'We were "doing the nasty"?' Gadeth repeated incredulously. 'How old are you?'

'You wouldn't tell me yours, I'm not going to tell you mine. I'm sowwy, did I offend your dewwicate sensibiwwities? Perhaps you were "making love"?'

'Look,' said Gadeth, 'your smutty little vocabulary aside, we did not do anything like that.'

'Well, that's just what I heard.'

Gadeth looked at himself in the shaving mirror. He had missed a bit on his neck. 'What happened was Serena challenged me to a fencing match, sort of a joke, and while that was going on the Boss turned up and got angry because, well, it wasn't very ladylike. That's what he got upset about, that's why she left. You want romance? Today she slapped bird's do on my face.'

'Jeez. Still, what can you expect? We all know what she is.'

'You think so?'

Baile looked as severe as a man sitting down with his trousers around his ankles can. 'Once one of them, always one of them, I say.'

'Yes, but by that argument she was always one of us.' Gadeth shot Baile a look via the mirror, which Baile returned with one of blank incomprehension.

'Anyway, I'm glad you didn't do her. It would be a bit weird. She's not like a proper girl, is she? If that was the sort of thing you went after, I think me and the boys would be walking around with our backs to the wall a lot more.'

'You know, with a logical mind like yours, Baile, you're wasted on the army. They need you in a university.'

'You wound me, Sarge.'

'Good. Look, don't spread that rumour any further. And if you hear anyone else repeating it, tell them the truth. Her reputation is in enough trouble without that. That's a direct order.' Gadeth dried his face on a towel.

'Yessir.'

Gadeth went to the door, then turned back. 'And Baile, I really don't want to see you on the can again. There's such a thing as too much camaraderie.' Out in the corridor again, he headed for his own room to change his clothes. _A bit weird. Not like a proper girl._ It was true. Still

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	3. Chapter Three

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Three**

_I'm new to dancing  
I catch my breath, I catch my breath  
In the middle of a dance with you_

- Dave Dobbyn, 'Naked Flame'

When Allen was told, by a gardener who had climbed a tree in order to shout over the hedge walls, that his sister had been brought home, he tried to run out of the maze, but in his excitement managed to get lost. Which was foolish, because he knew exactly how the maze went, had learned the layout so he could help guests who might get lost beyond the point of amusement. There was some sort of rule about always turning left or always right or alternating, but he couldn't remember it. Eventually, he gave up and got out by climbing over and pushing through hedges, breaking a lot of twigs and acquiring a lot of greenery about his person.

He arrived back at the house in some disarray, and, he strongly suspected, a caterpillar in his hair. He could feel it moving about. Gadeth was waiting in the hall, looking gloomy and tired, two states quite untypical of Gadeth.

'You brought her home?' Allen asked.

'Yes, Boss,' Gadeth said, 'she's up in her room getting changed. She's absolutely fine.' He looked Allen up and down. 'What happened to you? You look like the Green Man.'

'Thank you so much,' Allen said, grabbing Gadeth's hand and pressing it. 'I don't know well, thank you.'

'You've, ah, you've got a caterpillar just here,' said Gadeth, reaching to pick it off.

'What?' said Allen, not really listening and already heading upstairs. 'Never mind, I'll get it later.' It was disconcerting, Gadeth felt, to see him so visibly flustered. Gadeth didn't consider the Boss a really vain man, but he did care about how he looked, especially his hair, and if he didn't mind a caterpillar crawling about in it, he must be seriously shaken up.

Allen reached the late Lady Schezar's room. The door was ajar, so he went straight in, and found Serena sitting in the large armchair by the window. She was wearing a dark green dress with a full skirt, and had even tied a pale green ribbon in her hair. She rose when he entered, and curtsied, not terribly well.

'I'm very sorry I upset you. It was thoughtless and inconsiderate to run away like that, and I promise I won't do it again. I'll try to be more like how you want me to be, but it really isn't easy for me.' It sounded like a prepared speech; she was visibly nervous.

'That's all right,' Allen murmured, 'that's all right.' He half-ran across the room to her and hugged her tightly. After a moment, she put her arms around him too. 'I didn't mean to drive you away. I thought I was doing the best thing for you.'

'I know you were only trying to be kind.'

'I lost you for so long, and then I found you and lost you again' Words left him, and he simply held on to her for a minute, rocking slightly as though to comfort them both. 'I know it's stupid, but I thought Mother would be so angry with me!'

Serena managed a small laugh. 'She wouldn't be too happy with me either. Going off by myself.' There was another pause, more comfortable than the first. Serena stood still, and felt Allen's breathing, the warmth that came from him and the smell of his hair. He smelled like crushed greenery. She knew she smelled of soap, especially her hair. 'Can I tell you a few things, honestly? I sort of practised on Gadeth on the way back here. I don't think you understand a few things, which makes sense because only I really know about them, and I owe it to you to explain.'

'Of course,' said Allen. It pained him slightly that she was still going over this ground, but if he refused to listen who knew what she might do?

'Let's sit down.' Serena sat in the Story Chair, and Allen half-sat, half-leaned on one of the arms, and she began to talk.

Gadeth was seated on the steps in front of the house, finishing a glass of beer and generally feeling a lot better in the midday sunshine, when the messenger arrived. _It's all go today. Exactly what we don't need._

'I have a message for Sir Allen Schezar and his sister the Lady Serena Schezar,' the messenger reported. He had not gotten off his horse, so he was looking down at Gadeth. That seemed rather calculated.

'Both of them? You can give it to me and I'll pass it on. They're busy.'

'The message is for Sir Allen and Lady Serena,' the messenger reiterated.

'And I'm telling you, they're busy. Is it urgent? Who's it from?'

'The Princesses Elise and Millerna,' the messenger said reluctantly. He obviously felt he was addressing a menial. Something of a stuffed shirt.

'Good old Ellie and Millie,' said Gadeth, who felt like annoying him. He stood up and held out his hand. 'Give.'

The messenger sniffed, but handed over a cream-coloured envelope with a heavy royal seal on it. 'I don't know what it says,' he said, 'I haven't opened it,' with the implication _but you might._

'Much obliged,' said Gadeth briskly. 'Run along, now.' They employed some complete twits at the palace. The messenger gave him a dirty look, turned his horse around and left. Gadeth resumed his seat, drank the last of the beer and looked at the envelope for a while, tracing the pattern in the seal with a forefinger, before getting to his feet and heading back into the house. The door to Serena's room was half-open, but he tapped at it with one knuckle before entering anyway. The two of them were sharing the chair by the window, looking like a tableau of filial love.

'Message from the palace,' Gadeth announced, 'and it's addressed to both of you.' He walked over to the chair and held out the envelope.

'I'll take it,' said Allen, rising. He broke the seal and turned away to read the letter. Gadeth felt a tug on his sleeve and found that Serena was trying to get his attention unobtrusively. He bent down towards her and she whispered,

'I'm sorry about what I did before. About the bird's mess. It must have been pretty disgusting for you. It was just a silly joke.'

'Worse things have hit me in the face,' he said, smiling. 'And besides, good luck for me, right?'

'Do you believe in those superstitions?' she asked, not critically, just curiously.

'Not for a second,' he said firmly, with a grin. 'I'm like you. I make my own luck.'

'Blast,' said Allen softly. They both turned towards him.

'What's wrong, Boss?' said Gadeth, at the same time as Serena asked 'What's the matter?'

'Oh, it's nothing serious,' he said quickly. 'But do you feel up to visiting the palace, Serena? We've both been invited to dinner. We really shouldn't say no.'

Serena suddenly felt afraid. To leave this house, with people she knew, if only slightly, and go into the city, the very palace, where everyone would be watching and judging her it was not an appealing prospect. But she would have to do something like this sooner or later, and she did not want to let Allen down again, if she could help it.

'All right,' she said bravely. 'What should I wear?'

'First things first,' said Gadeth. 'How many meals have you missed?' She started to count on her fingers. 'If you have to count, it's too many,' he said. 'Personally, I could eat a bull.'

'Of course, of course,' Allen said. 'Lunch first. I'll explain court table manners to you over the meal, Serena. It will be good practice.'

Later that afternoon, Serena was brushing her hair at her mother's dressing table, trying to work out if there was anything she could do with it. She had eaten an enormous lunch and felt rather stuffed but much more cheerful. She thought she could get through a palace dinner without too much embarrassment as long as she watched what she said and remembered to work in from the outside with the cutlery. _In from the outside, in from the outside. _There was a tap at the door.

'Come in,'

It was Gadeth with a large, flat, white box. 'This was just delivered for you,' he said. 'I've brought it up in my new role as messenger boy around here. Your brother ordered it as soon as you came home, and this is pretty good timing.'

'What is it?' Serena asked, getting up. Her skirt got hooked up on the edge of the chair and she had to yank it loose. 'I really, really hate long skirts.'

'You might not be too pleased with this, then,' Gadeth said. He put the box down on the bed and cut the strings with a pocket-knife, then stood back to let Serena take off the lid. She lifted it gingerly, and laid it beside the base of the box. Inside were smooth layers of white tissue paper. She folded them back, and uncovered a brand new, very fashionable dress. It had great puffed sleeves, a long pleated skirt, a broad, snowy white, sprigged collar. Folded over its bodice was a pair of long dove-grey gloves.

'It's for me to wear?'

'No, just to look at. Of course to wear. Do you like it?'

Serena lifted up the dress, the skirt unfolding from the box, turned it around and held it against her. 'I don't know. Do you?'

'I don't know much about women's clothes, but I'd say it's pretty.' Serena looked hard at the dress and appeared to reach a decision. 'Wait there.' She ran into the bathroom and shut the door. A minute later, she emerged, wearing the new dress, which bagged oddly at the front. When she turned around, it became clear why. The back was unfastened.

'I can't manage the hooks and eyes,' she said, 'they're too little. Can you do me up at the back there, please?'

'Shouldn't you get a maid or someone?' Gadeth was not embarrassed, but conscious of a certain impropriety in the situation.

'But you're here. Go on. Do me a favour, please?' She backed up to him and stood still expectantly. He shrugged, and started with the bottom hooks.

'Why do they want to make getting dressed so complicated, anyway?' he asked.

'Oh, it's to do with being a lady, I suppose,' she said. 'Ladies can't do anything by themselves. It's all about helplessness.'

'Sounds like fun,' Gadeth said with a small grimace. He was finding the hooks and eyes quite fiddly himself. Besides, being close to Serena was a little distracting. He had been afraid of that. She shifted a little, disturbed the air, and he smelled soap and some kind of dried flowers. _What am I thinking?_ There were small flowers embroidered on her camisole, white on white.

'You're taking a long time back there.'

'It's difficult for gentlemen as well.'

'Do you consider yourself a gentleman?'

'I try.'

'Good for you.' There was a pause. Gadeth thought he had worked out the trick with the hooks and eyes; you had to sort of bend the material back behind the eyes so you had a clear shot at slipping the hooks through. He was up to the middle of the back now.

'It's quite tight,' Serena said. 'I suppose that's the fashion.'

'Princess Millerna herself won't be better dressed.'

'What's she like?'

'She's a nice girl. Brave, too. I saw her save the Boss' life once.'

'Really? How?' Serena tried to imagine in what sort of adventurous context a princess might manage to rescue a knight.

'She operated on him after he was injured in that river battle a while ago. Just before the fall of Freid. When you meet her you might get the impression that she's a bit of an airhead, but don't be fooled. She's smart as paint. Studying to be a doctor as well as a princess.' The last hook met with the last eye, he patted the back of the dress flat and said 'There, you're done up.' Serena did not turn round.

'I mean, I'm not afraid of blood, but it's never nice to see the inside of a living person. I was meant to be assisting her, and I was standing there holding his shoulders in case the anaesthetic didn't take, thinking holy crap what if it doesn't, and she was calm as anything. She passed out afterwards, but she never faltered during. It was the first operation she'd ever done!'

'Is she in love with him?' Serena asked. She wasn't sure why she suspected this.

'Yes, I think so. That's the Boss for you. He charms women, even when he's not trying to. But when he is trying, look out.'

Serena twirled round. 'I'll just have to try and charm some men, won't I? Uphold the family reputation.'

Gadeth chuckled. 'You don't want the family reputation. The Boss is respected by the smart ones, but the rest of them like to despise him ... you know how people do when they know someone's better than them? They despise him for being chivalrous. Things like that, because their chivalry is just good manners and knowing who their great-great-grandfather was, not the real thing. As for the rest of the family well, people felt sorry for your mother, but frankly, they thought your father was mad.'

'Oh,' said Serena, crestfallen.

'Look, don't waste time feeling bad about that. Start your own reputation.'

'I'll have to try. I could practise on you.' She smiled shyly. It was a very calculated smile, but Gadeth couldn't help smiling back.

'Sorry. I'm immune to charm. I had a course of vaccinations as a child.'

'What's your weak point?' The smile broadened.

'Crazy girls who beat me in fights get me every time.' Before he could think about it and find a reason why not, he leaned forward and kissed her. She was a little clumsy in returning the kiss, but who cared? Her lips were soft, she was warm in his arms, and it really didn't matter if they did this. No-one had to know. It would all be all right somehow.

Serena put her arms around Gadeth's neck and wondered how long you could acceptably prolong a kiss. She wanted this to go on for as long as possible. _I must be doing something right at last. And I like him _**_so_**_ much!_ The kiss lasted only a few seconds before Gadeth drew back. 'You mustn't tell anyone I did that. We could get into a lot of trouble.'

'Why?'

'I just don't think your brother could deal with this as well' She stopped him with another quick kiss, and felt quite pleased with herself for managing that.

'I mean why would I tell anyone?'

'Good point. Good point.' Another kiss, more of an exploration. _Where does she think this is going? How innocent is she? I shouldn't assume too much_

_He's big and strong and lovely and I think he's mine if I want him._ They broke off, a little breathlessly, and Gadeth said 'We're stopping now.'

'Why?' Serena looked dismayed.

'Because because we shouldn't try for too much too soon, and because hell, you're young.'

'Not that young.'

'Eight years younger than me. I was already eight years old when you were _born_.'

'And that makes you not want to kiss me?'

'No, it just makes me worry about wanting to kiss you.'

She looked into his eyes, very seriously, which completely ruined his good resolution, so that when they heard footsteps coming along the corridor outside they had to jump apart and try to look innocent and uninvolved. They would not have had a hope of pulling this off, so it was lucky that the footsteps continued past the door and faded away.

'I'm leaving now,' Gadeth said. 'Definitely. Excuse me.'

'But come back, won't you?'

'Won't I!' He kissed her once more, on the cheek, and went out. Serena waited a few moments, hoping he would come back, hoping she'd been able to exert that kind of enchantment, however she was doing it; she had no idea. _Things are happening. A real girl's life is happening for me, and I like it. I can do this._ She looked down at herself in the new dress. _He likes me in this._ Serena spun around, to watch the skirt flare out, then wrap around her, then flare out again as she twirled in the opposite direction. Soon it would be time to go to the palace.

Gadeth spent the rest of the afternoon supervising maintenance on the Crusade and Scherazade. Now that he knew he was falling, illogically, he tried to scramble back into a normal state, giving orders, solving problems, and found it went ill with his growing tendency to fall into little wine-and-roses dreams.

'What?' said Rideth, who had just given him a report on the condition of the _Crusade_'s propellers.

'Pardon?' said Gadeth. He realised he had no idea what Rideth had been talking about. Property?

'What are you looking at?' Rideth said, glancing over his shoulder. 'You were just staring past me with a goofy smile on your face.'

'I, um, I think I'm a little tired,' Gadeth said vaguely. 'Keep up the good work, Rideth,' and he walked away.

'Wait, what do you want us to do about the cracked starboard blade? It won't hold together much longer,' Rideth called after him. Gadeth turned back questioningly, as though he had not expected Rideth to say anything.

'Can you fix it?'

'No. I said we can't fix it.'

'So replace it.'

'We haven't got the equipment here. That's why we can't fix it!'

'Order stuff. Go into the city, requisition it from the shipyards. I don't know, do I have to tell you everything?' He wandered off.

'What's wrong with him today?' Rideth asked Baile, who was gloomily inspecting the cracked propeller and poking at it with his foot from time to time, in case that fixed it.

'Oh, he's not-in-love with the Boss' sister,' Baile said. 'You know how he gets. Remember last year?'

'It seems worse than that,' Rideth said, doubtfully. 'So was that rumour true? I didn't believe it.'

'No, that one wasn't true, this one I'm starting now is,' Baile said, and grinned.

When the Schezars' carriage came rattling back up the drive, late in a balmy evening, Gadeth was in the library, not really reading a child's book of pirate stories which he had picked up at random. Written on the flyleaf in big, scratchy pencil letters was 'This Book Belongs to Allen Crusade Schezar the VIIIth so HANDS OFF,' with a skull-and-crossbones drawn beneath, and, in smaller letters, 'This Means You Serena.' He was definitely not waiting for Serena to come home, which must have been why he got up so hurriedly when he heard the carriage outside. 

Then he sat down again and read two more pages of the book before getting back up and strolling out of the library very casually to see what he could see. There was a light in the parlour, and he looked in. Allen was sitting in front of the empty fireplace, with his owl perched on the high back of the chair. Gadeth realised he hadn't seen the owl around in the last few days. It came and went, but never went away for good. It had always seemed to him not so much a pet as a friend that dropped in from time to time.

'How did it go?' he asked.

'Pardon?' said Allen, looking up.

'How did the dinner go? What did Serena do?' Gadeth looked anxious.

'She didn't do anything. I mean, she did everything right. I was proud of her.'

'Of course you were,' Serena said smugly, walking in behind Gadeth. 'I used the right forks, I didn't spill anything, I didn't say anything awful ... well, I didn't say much at all, which I guess helped.'

'You perked up quite a lot toward the end of the evening,' Allen observed. 'It wasn't a problem, but I don't think you're used to _vino_. In future, drink it a little more slowly.'

'Well, I made everyone laugh,' Serena said. 'Not _at_ me, either. And I think the Princesses liked me. The only disappointing thing was the dancing afterwards, I don't know any of the dances. I just had to watch. But I think I worked out how it goes. Come on, Allen, we'll show Gadeth.' She hauled on her brother's arm; he kept his seat. 

'I can't,' he said, 'I'm tired.'

'Meanie,' Serena complained.

'Show him yourself.' Allen was smiling. He had spent a good part of the evening in a state of mortal fear lest something dreadful happen, and now that it was over and everything had turned out fine, he felt happy but rather wrung out. He had not really had a chance to talk to Millerna, but a few looks had passed between them that made him feel very hopeful. It might not be time to move yet, but it was good to know that he probably could.

'I will, then. Come on, Gadeth, I take your hand, like this, and put this hand on your shoulder ... now, you put _this_ hand here on my back.' Gadeth was placed in the awkward situation of being allowed to do something he very much wanted to, but trying not to look as though he was enjoying it too much.

'You've got it reversed,' Allen pointed out. 'It should be his right hand there.' Serena stuck her tongue out at him. There were roses in her cheeks, and her eyes were brighter than usual.

'And off we go,' she said, and started to dance. Gadeth tried first to lead, then just to follow what she was doing.

'You know I don't know court dancing either, right?' he asked as they narrowly missed knocking over a small table. 'Country dances, yes, this fancy stuff, no.'

'Good, because we're doing it terribly badly,' Serena said breathlessly. 'It's still fun. Do you think you could dip me?'

'What you?'

'Sort of tip me over. It looks good.'

'Don't try it,' said Allen, who was watching them with quiet amusement. 'At this rate you'll drop her.'

'Heaven forbid,' said Gadeth. 'So what else went on?'

'Oh, there was a singer, and very good food, and some people who didn't dance played cards, but I didn't know the games either. I just wanted to watch.'

'We'll make a court lady of you yet,' said Allen, as the roughly circular path the dancers were following took them behind his high-backed chair, and Serena tried to kiss Gadeth quickly and secretly, and got him on the chin because he didn't realise what she was doing in time. He returned the kiss to her mouth, a little guiltily. Then they were round the chair and back in Allen's line of sight. The owl clacked its beak at them.

'What's your owl's name?' Serena asked innocently. Gadeth stared at her, trying to decide on exactly what level she was operating at the moment.

'Well, in the beginning I called him Natal, but I don't really call him by name any more,' Allen said. 'I found him as a chick who'd fallen out of his nest in the swamp, and looked after him. Now, well, he doesn't really need looking after any more, and I think he spends time with me just for old times' sake.' He scratched the owl's breast-feathers and it shuffled its feet and bobbed its head at his hand. 'Don't you, Natal? See, he doesn't know his name.'

'Lucky Natal,' said Serena. 'Or lucky Owl. We really need some music for this. Whistle, Allen.'

'Oh, that's not fair,' Allen protested.

'He can't whistle,' Serena told Gadeth. 'He never could. He used to try for hours and the best he could do was a sort of tweet. Ten years he's frittered away and he still hasn't learned to whistle.'

'Some people just can't!' Allen said. They were both smiling, just teasing. It was the first time Gadeth had seen them behave like a normal brother and sister together.

'I can whistle like a nightingale,' said Serena, and produced a quite complex warble to prove it. 'And wiggle my ears.' She was clearly enjoying showing off; it was rather sweet.

'Go on, then,' said Gadeth.

'Aren't I?'

'They're not moving.'

Serena frowned, and stopped dancing. 'What about now?' Gadeth looked carefully at the ear nearest him.

'Nothing, I'm afraid.'

'That's strange,' she began, 'I always used to I mean' She stopped, looking confused and unhappy.

'If it was something you did when you were a little girl, perhaps you've just forgotten how,' Gadeth said comfortingly.

'It wasn't,' Serena said.

'Oh.'

'Excuse me,' said Serena, letting go of his hand and stepping back. 'I should probably go to bed, it's late.' She had evidently stopped enjoying herself. Both men looked at her with some concern.

'Do you feel all right?' Allen asked.

'Oh, yes. I'm just tired. You know. Thank you, Gadeth, I'm glad I got to have one dance tonight.' She went to Allen and kissed him goodnight, on the forehead, before leaving the room quickly. The owl left Allen's shoulder in a flurry and fluttered to a perch in the corner.

'That was strange,' said Allen. 'Do you think'

'Probably,' said Gadeth. They exchanged troubled glances.

'And she was so happy just a minute before,' Allen said. 'You can see what I mean, can't you? The sooner she realises that she needs to put it all behind her, the sooner she can be really contented. She talked to me earlier I think I have you to thank for that, as well. She's still a very confused young girl.' He fell silent for a moment, and Gadeth shifted uneasily. 'It's kind of you to befriend her,' Allen went on. 'Of course I want her to come to me with her worries, but if she feels she cannot, it's good that there is someone we can both trust.' Gadeth said nothing, and Allen took this for silent assent.

'And at least the dinner party showed that she can cope in public. Serena may be accepted after all.'

An anonymous room in the palace, dimly lit. Anonymous men, with shadowy faces. Here and there, the end of a cigar glowed for a moment. Eventually, someone chose to speak.

'She's alive and well, then. Apparently stable.'

'The reversion could well be permanent.'

'Which is not ideal for our purposes.'

A brooding silence. This was the sort of meeting which, officially, no-one attended.

'Nevertheless.' That was always a safe thing to say. Let someone bolder pick it up.

'Nevertheless, we must move?' Now that someone had been the first to say it, the rest of the room relaxed very slightly.

'Before she becomes accepted. I'm sorry to say that after a performance like tonight's, she could even become popular in a minor way.'

'They are a good-looking family.'

'That has always been the problem. Too attractive. Too romantic. We do not need a fairy-tale damsel in addition to a crusading knight.'

'It won't be difficult. People will be easily reminded.'

'And we do, after all, have truth on our side.'

'We do, of course.'

Serena lay on her bed. She had not undressed yet, because she did not think she would be able to sleep. _That wasn't me. It was him. But I thought of it as me. I can't pick and choose, say yes I'll have Dilandau's good qualities, and what a sterling ability ear-wiggling is, and disown the rest. Either he's me or he's not. Or I'm not. Why can't I do it any more? Surely it's nothing to do with what sex you are? He taught himself to do that when he was seven years old he got bored in lectures and working on little projects like that was a way of staying entertained. I was sure I could still do it I was, he was proud of being able to do that. It was a little thing a pretty normal thing_

She'd been dancing over what she'd thought was solid ground, and suddenly the swamp had heaved and the crust had broken and she'd realised that still, nothing was stable. At the same time, she could still feel the ghost of the pressure of Gadeth's hand on her back, the warmth of his mouth on hers. That was something to hold onto. That was really hers.

After some wrestling with the hooks and eyes, she hung the fashionable dress carefully in the wardrobe, a new neighbour for her mother's old gowns, and got into her nightgown in a subdued mood. Nestling into the soft, puffy pillows, she tried to think of nothing, and so hasten sleep. Instead, she thought of Gadeth, smiling eyes, warm hands, secret kisses, and found herself more awake than before. There was no-one at her back now.

Eventually, the darkness opened its jaws and swallowed her up for another night.

'Are you Serena Schezar?'

Serena opened her eyes, blinked stickily, realised there was an unfamiliar man bending over her. He was in the uniform of a royal guard. His face was blank and unfriendly.

'You Serena Schezar?' he repeated, impatiently.

'Yes, I' she began, sitting up. There were three other guards in her room. _What?_ Allen burst in, wearing his nightshirt over his trousers. He had obviously been startled out of bed and pulled them on in an effort not to look foolish.

'What is the meaning of this? You can't just walk into my house and attack my sister! Get out!' he said, in tight, clipped tones of anger.

'We've done nothing to your sister, sir, and we're here on orders,' the guard by Serena's bed said coolly. 'There's no need for any unpleasantness.'

'Well, what the devil do you want?' Allen asked. Even in these circumstances he managed to sound commanding. The guard looked uncomfortable.

'She's being taken into royal custody,' he said, and showed a piece of paper. Serena glimpsed the word 'warrant' written at the head of it. Allen looked at the paper with contempt.

'What on earth for?'

'I wasn't told, sir. You could inquire at the palace.'

'I certainly shall.'

'Come on, miss, get up,' the guard said to Serena. She pulled the bedclothes up higher.

'Allen, you're not going to let them take me, are you?'

'Of course not. This is some sort of stupid mistake. If my sister must come to the palace, she must, but she'll do so in her own time and in a respectable way. You will kindly wait outside and let us get dressed and ready, and then I will accompany her.'

'And how, sir, do we know you won't take the opportunity to cut and run?' the guard asked.

'You have my word as a knight,' Allen said bitterly.

The guard looked him up and down. 'I suppose that's enough,' he said eventually. He turned to go. 'Come on, men. We'll give them half an hour.' The royal guards trooped out of the bedroom. Allen sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

'Allen?' Serena said. He didn't reply. 'Allen!' she repeated, growing frightened. 'What's going to happen?'

'I don't know,' he said at last, and turned to take her hand. 'Whatever comes, I'll look after you. Now, you'd better get up. If they say half an hour, that's all they'll give us. That's my girl.' He patted her hand, then left in a hurry. Serena sat in the middle of her mother's bed, the sheets tangled around her. She realised, as her back grew cold, that she had had another night sweat. Her nightgown was sticking to her clammily. _I can't get up. I can't deal with this._

Somehow, thinking that she could not cope made her able to do so. It was as if acknowledging the hopelessness of the situation lessened it in some way. She crept out of bed, washed and dressed ... back into one of her mother's dresses, which more and more seemed to her to be haunted by the lady who had once worn them. The collars of some still bore faint traces of her face powder. This sense of Mother's presence could be comforting, but at other times felt wrong, as though Serena were in disguise as her mother and would be found out. Wearing someone else's clothes all the time was just strange. Putting on Allen's had only gotten her into trouble. She had exactly one dress of her own and that, she supposed, was party best. 

Buttoning a pair of dark brown boots, Serena found herself wondering what had become of Dilandau's clothes. She could not clearly recall much that had happened after changing back on the battlefield; she remembered Jajuka's voice telling her what to do, and somehow managing to do it, then falling into Allen's arms, but she had been exhausted and confused and somewhat feverish (perhaps that explained the mental image of a luminous white dragon she recalled? A hallucination?), and details such as what had happened to the clothes she had on at the time eluded her. She had had the black leather suit and red armour on when she made the change. She had woken up in her mother's bed in a white nightgown. Inbetween was anyone's guess. Probably Allen had disposed of them somewhere.

_What would I do if I could get those clothes back, anyway? Wear them again? Everyone would be horrified. And I don't want to wear black leather. Or that tacky gold tiara thing. Dilandau enjoyed it, it made him feel dangerous and gorgeous, but I don't think I'm that kind of girl._ Serena brushed her hair in front of the mirror while thinking these gloomy thoughts. She took hold of a curl that hung over her forehead and pulled it down straight. It came half-way down her cheek. _Why is it growing so fast?_ Dilandau had always worn his hair longish at the front, but the back had been cropped. On Serena, the ends were now past her collar. Soon there would be enough for the kind of pigtails she could just remember wearing as a very little child.

Serena released the curl and watched it spring back. She brushed all her hair back from her forehead and tied a blue ribbon around her head like a headband. The bow on top of her head looked childish, but it was the only way she could think of to keep it out of her eyes at the moment. Little wisps and tendrils still sprang out at her hairline and around her temples.

Allen opened the door. 'Are you ready to go?'

'I suppose so.' She got up from the dressing table, holding her skirt out of harm's way this time.

'You look very nice,' Allen said, standing back to let her out of the room first. 'Now, don't worry about this. I have no idea why the King would want to place you in custody, except perhaps to protect you. We all understand your situation here, but other people might not be as sympathetic, and perhaps he's concerned about that.'

'Shyeah, right,' Serena said.

'I beg your pardon?' Allen looked alarmed.

'I've run out of luck,' Serena said grimly. 'I'm surprised you were allowed to keep me as long as you were. He probably wants to give me over to the sorcerers to study. Find out how I work, how I changed. They'll dissect me eventually.' Voicing this thought seemed to make it more true, and cold fear settled in around her heart. _I don't want to die. I wanted to live, and find out what it's like to have a real life. Be a real person._

'Over my dead body,' Allen said firmly. 'That's not the way we do things here. Perhaps in Zaibach, but not here. Anatomical studies are only carried out on the bodies of people who gave their consent before dying of natural causes. Princess Millerna explained the system to me once. Or condemned men after execution.' He caught her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'Show no fear.' He gave her one of his brief, sweet smiles, and led her downstairs and out to the carriage waiting in the drive.

Serena stood beside Allen in the antechamber of King Aston's throne room. The four guards had stuck by them all the way there, and been joined by four more. She felt small and dowdy and weak, and fought to remind herself that she did not have to feel that way. _I am Sir Allen Schezar's sister, and Leon and Encia Schezar's daughter._ She made herself stand up straight, and held her head erect. And stealthily, guiltily, like someone dipping into a hoard of money being saved for another purpose, she drew on a little, a very little of Dilandau's pride. His voice spoke softly in her mind.

**_I burned Fanelia. I humbled Freid. I am not afraid of these people._**_ I'm just using a little now, because I really need it, _Serena told herself. _I won't do it again. Just retreating to a position of strength. See, I'm not being like Dilandau. That wasn't ever his style._

A herald opened the tall doors to the throne room and ushered them through, announcing them by name. King Aston was a small, fat figure huddled on his throne, with a blanket covering his lap. It was a regal-looking blanket but it was clearly there because he was not feeling well. The King's face was pasty and mottled, and he looked tired. His feet were up on a stool. Perhaps the old goat isn't as strong as he gave out, Allen thought, mildly taken aback by his own disrespect. Outwardly, at least, he remembered his manners, setting his sword on the ground beside him and dropping to one knee. Beside him, Serena, perhaps overawed and forgetting herself, dropped into the kneeling bow taught to the Dragonslayers.

_Oops. Really should have curtsied. Perhaps they'll just think I don't know how?_ She hastily got up on one knee in an effort to make it look as though she was copying Allen and had gotten it slightly wrong. Allen kept his head bowed but cast his eyes sideways at her, trying to warn her. King Aston had not been at the dinner party last night; that had been a pleasant occasion hosted by the Princesses, made gay by Millerna's presence. A weight seemed to have been lifted from her since her husband left her, and despite the difficult times in Asturia she was cheerful and busy. Serena had made a good impression on her, but had not had a chance to do so on her father.

Serena risked a look up from under her eyebrows. The King was looking at them both as though they were an interesting type of insect. He cleared his throat to speak, but this turned into a hoarse, rattling cough, the careful unwilling cough of someone whose throat is already sore from coughing, and he had to be given a glass of water by an attendant before he could continue.

'Sir Allen Schezar,' he said, 'we summoned your sister to be taken into royal custody. What is your reason for not only not surrendering her immediately, but accompanying her into our presence?'

'Concern for her happiness and well-being, Your Majesty,' Allen said in a neutral tone. 'My sister has been unwell and I did not wish to place her in a distressing situation without a familiar companion to care for her.'

'Unwell. An interesting term for it,' said the King. 'Your sister will not be distressed. She will be treated with the greatest courtesy and consideration. Rooms will be made available for her use for the duration.'

'The duration of what?' Allen said, a little more sharply than perhaps he had intended.

'Of her trial,' King Aston said, and turned his attention away from Allen as completely as if Allen were a candle that had been blown out. He looked down at Serena. 'The individual known as Serena Schezar is to be placed on trial for her life in the matter of the war crimes of Dilandau Albatou.'

Serena heard Allen gasp. She saw a tiny smile lift one corner of the King's mouth. Then sense left her, and it seemed that the floor rose up and hit her quite hard.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	4. Chapter Four

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Four**

_This chapter is dedicated to Helen, for various reasons, not including claustrophobia._

Serena regained consciousness almost immediately, for which she was thankful. Fainting on receiving bad news struck her as a little _too_ girly. It was embarrassing enough that she had slumped over for a few seconds. These impressions came through only muzzily at first, as her main thought was a fervent wish that Allen would stop patting at her face and calling her name. It was annoying enough to bring her round.

'Stop it,' she said. 'I'm perfectly all right.' She sat up, managed not to sway when another ripple of dizziness went through her, and straightened her clothes.

'Does she require medical assistance?' asked King Aston, who, naturally enough, had not moved from his seat. A few courtiers seemed to have stepped forward but now looked uncertain about going further.

'I'm all right, thank you,' Serena said, quite loudly, before Allen could speak. 'I didn't have breakfast this morning.'

'On top of that, such a shock must have been too much for her,' Allen said. He gave the King a thoroughly odd look; it wanted to be a glare of pure indignation but it was modulated by an effort to look beseeching. 'Can't I ask you to reconsider, Your Majesty? Surely you can see that she is not fit for this. And the very suggestion is absurd. This is Serena Schezar. She and Dilandau Albatou are not the same person. I can vouch for her.'

'She's your sister,' King Aston said scornfully. 'Of course.'

'Why should I lie for Dilandau?' Allen said. It was almost a sputter; he was not only outraged, but flummoxed by the accusations. 'If I believed I was harbouring a war criminal, I would turn him in immediately! Dilandau is gone, Your Majesty. You and I have had our differences, but I don't believe I have done anything that would give you reason to believe that I would threaten the safety of Astoria with such an act of, of _treachery_.'

'My poor Sir Allen,' the King said, leaning forward confidentially. 'You don't understand. I'm not accusing the wretched girl of _being_ Albatou. At the moment, at any rate. This case is unprecedented and of course it's very important that we be seen to do everything with great care and fairness. The people of Astoria need to see justice done.'

'A scapegoat?' Allen said. 'You're making a scapegoat of Dilandau?'

'The term "scapegoat" implies wrongfully accused innocence,' said the King dryly. 'I'm sure you would agree that Dilandau Albatou was a _bona fide_ thug? _Male fide_ might be a better term. Everything will be quite just. A preliminary hearing will be held to determine that Serena Schezar may be held responsible for these crimes.'

_'That,'_ Serena thought. _Not 'whether.'_

'This isn't about revenge,' King Aston went on. 'It is about reparations. Retribution. These things are necessary before we can move on. We must clean the wound so that it can heal. And now,' he said, seeing that Allen was about to speak, 'I thank you for your attendance. Your sister will be made comfortable and secure here at the palace. You, Sir Allen, are free to go. You may engage a solicitor to speak in your sister's behalf, or whatever you please. This audience is at an end.'

Allen opened his mouth to protest, closed it, opened it slightly again and finally closed it with a snap. He picked up his sword, stood up, and bowed to the King.

'I understand, Your Majesty.' He turned to Serena, who was sitting at his feet in a small, stunned heap, and helped her to stand. 'Be very careful,' he murmured, bringing his face close to hers. 'It's best to cooperate at this stage. I will never let them hurt you, but for the moment it's best not to resist.' He kissed her on the cheek, then stepped back and turned away.

_He's really going,_ Serena thought in disbelief. _What does he think he can do? It isn't what I thought, but I'm surely going to die anyway. Preliminary hearing? He might as well have said show trial. The verdict has already been decided. And not once did that fat old man speak directly to me. He talked about ending my life and he didn't even say it to me._

'Goodbye, then,' she called after Allen. He turned back and looked at her gravely, gave her a little nod, then continued out of the room. Serena looked up at the pudgy king and gave him the dirty look she could tell her brother had been dying to give. He smiled back amiably.

'A fierce little cat,' he commented. 'Give her to the other little cat, to look after.'

Serena could not be bothered to wonder what that was supposed to mean. She felt rather numb. Somewhere inside was a dull, surly feeling of hate, but it was buffered by greyness. A courtier stepped forward, took her arm above the elbow, and walked her out of the throne room.

_I got to really live for how many? Five, six days? Can I count today? I had good food, and company, I managed to have fun. I had exactly six kisses from Gadeth, or with Gadeth, because some of them I started. I never did quite work everything out. I suppose a lot of people don't do so well._

_And then again,_ she thought as she was led along increasingly plain corridors to somewhere away from the splendid public rooms of the palace, _quite a lot of people get married and have children and grow old having all sorts of interesting experiences. Compared to a lot of people, I really got ripped off. Yes, a lot of people do worse, but that doesn't make this good. It makes their experience even more pathetic._

'You're quiet,' said the courtier leading her. She was a tall, brown-haired woman with a large, unfortunate mole on her chin. She was otherwise quite handsome.

'Guilty,' said another lady, who had fallen into step behind them as they left the throne room. 'The guilty ones always go quiet.'

'Shall I scream?' Serena asked rudely. 'Would that make me innocent?' The woman behind her darted forward and pinched her spitefully. Serena was so startled that she only gasped.

'I don't have to take that from a little trollop like you, whatever you are,' the rearward lady said. 'Keep a civil tongue in your head while you're here.' Serena drew herself up and gave her the most withering look she could muster. _Old cow._

'Come on,' said the first woman, pulling her on before she could speak her mind. They reached an ordinary wooden door, painted pale blue like the others in that corridor. It was an ordinary corridor, with a few pictures on the walls, not the best ones for showing off with, but quite nice ones. The door did not have heavy bolts or a little barred window or anything you would expect from a cell door. The spiteful woman opened the door and led them through into a respectable bedroom. It did not have any windows, but was well lit by lamps. There was a desk, an armchair, a small fireplace, and quite a large bed with a dark red eiderdown. There was even a set of shelves, containing books, and another picture hung over the fireplace, of a ship at sea. Polished seashells had been placed on the mantelpiece as decorations.

'This will be your room,' the brown-haired lady said, much to Serena's surprise. 'You will not leave it without permission, and you will always be supervised. There is a bathroom attached, so you do not need to go anywhere. You may have visitors provided they make an appointment with me or Lady Erima and their visit is approved. Your letters will be read before they are sent and any letters you receive will be read before they are passed on to you. I am telling you these conditions so that you may know you are being fairly dealt with.'

That was an interesting way of looking at it, Serena thought. Now that they were in the room, Brown-hair let go of her arm and stood back.

'Lady Erima is the one who pinched me?' Serena asked, refraining from rubbing the sore spot until such time as they left.

'Yes, and I am Lady Kerell.'

'Will you two be "supervising" me?'

'No. You will have a maid who will perform that duty. She will be here soon, and then we can leave.' Both women evidently considered this a disagreeable assignment, although Lady Erima appeared to be getting a certain amount of satisfaction from Serena's obvious discomfiture. They folded their hands and looked at her primly. Serena stood still where she was, in the middle of the room, and wondered what came next. In answer, the door opened and a small, furry face looked in. It was a half-cat girl, with straight golden hair in two braided loops at the sides of her head.

'Is this the right room?' the cat girl asked timidly. She stepped the rest of the way in. She was dressed in more or less the same way as the court ladies, if less richly, and with a small apron on. 'Mrs Howden told me to come.'

'This is your maid,' said Lady Erima, more or less ignoring the maid herself. 'She has been instructed in her duties. Please be aware that she will report all your activities to myself, Lady Kerell or Mrs Howden the housekeeper. That will be all.' With that, the two court ladies turned and swished out of the room, closing the door behind them. Serena and the cat maid looked at each other. An uncomfortable moment of silence stretched out like toffee.

'Who were those old bitches?' Serena said eventually. If that was offensive, good. She felt pretty offensive. The cat girl started and blushed.

'They're well, their husbands are very important.' She smoothed down her apron with pawlike hands. She seemed very nervous.

'M-hm,' Serena said brusquely. She put her hands on her hips and looked around at the room. There was the door to the bathroom; that other door must be a closet. It was a good deal smaller than her mother's room, but there was room to swing a cat.

'And who are you?' she asked the only cat available.

'My name is Aruetta,' the cat girl said. 'I, er, I work here. I was a gift from the Zaibach Empire. When I was a baby.'

'Aruetta's a nice name,' Serena said, taking pity on someone so obviously hopeless. She felt less afraid already. Though she should probably keep in mind the possibility that Aruetta was acting hopeless in order to bring her guard down.

'I think it means skylark,' Aruetta said. 'It's Fanelian. I was born there.'

'Oh, so we have nothing in common after all,' Serena said. She stalked over to the bed and flopped down on her back, with her hands behind her head and her ankles crossed. Being jaunty helped her to feel confident. 'How long do they expect to keep me here?'

'I don't really know,' Aruetta admitted, looking embarrassed. 'I only heard about this today.' She took a hesitant step closer to the bed, and the expression on her face changed, grew a little bolder. 'Is your brother Allen Schezar?'

'Yes,' Serena replied offhandedly. 'There aren't a lot of Schezars hopping about. As far as I know we're the only ones.'

'Oh,' said Aruetta, 'oh.' She began to smile, and covered her mouth with her hands, although her eyes still smiled. 'He's lovely. He really is. He always smiles at me when he sees me. Once he gave me a flower, just like that. He was in the garden waiting to see the Princess and I walked by on a message and he was twirling a flower in his hand and he just gave it to me and smiled.'

_She's got a screaming crush on him,_ Serena realised. _Is this what Gadeth was talking about? Without even trying?_

'I hope Millerna wasn't annoyed that she didn't get a flower,' she said.

'Oh, it wasn't Princess Millerna,' Aruetta said quickly.

'Really? It surely wasn't Elise?' _She gave him a maze, which is a bit of a strange present, but she seemed like a bit of a strange woman._

'It was Princess Marlene,' Aruetta explained, almost apologetically. 'It was a few years ago.'

Serena thought about that. 'What did he do? Work his way through in order of age?' There were always rumours about Allen Schezar being something of a ladykiller, but in the few days she had spent with him he just hadn't seemed like the type. It was another face of her brother to consider.

'I don't believe he and Princess Elise were ever close,' Aruetta said. She had gone back to looking worried. 'I probably shouldn't've said any of that.'

'Oh, that's all right. I don't mind.'

'No, it's not, you see I have to report everything we say, and if I tell them I said that I could get into awful trouble.'

'But surely the point of the reports is to show if I said anything incriminating. Couldn't you just leave out anything silly you said?'

'I suppose so,' Aruetta said hesitantly. 'It's the first time I've had to do something like this.'

'Either they don't think very highly of me at all,' Serena commented, 'or you are a clever liar and really an expert in espionage.'

'Oh all right,' said Aruetta, relaxing slightly, 'I have done a little of this sort of thing, but never on a case this major. Sorry if I laid it on a bit thick. I really do like your brother. But if it's true what they say about you I wouldn't give tuppence for your chances.'

'Nor would I,' Serena said gloomily. 'Whatever tuppence is.'

'Not a political case, anyway,' said Aruetta, still thinking about her career as a spy. 'Usually ladies get me to spy on their husbands, see if they're having affairs, which, to be honest, they usually are. Or the other way around. I'm small and quiet, you know, and people don't notice I'm around if I don't want them to. I'm good at the listening in, but not always so good at the acting innocent.' There was certainly no air of shyness about her now.

'What am I supposed to do for clothes?' Serena asked, changing the subject. 'I've only got the dress I'm wearing.'

'It looks twenty years old,' Aruetta said. 'No-one wears boofy petticoats like that these days. I didn't think the Schezars were so poor.'

'We're not!' Serena protested, although when she thought about it, she had no idea whether Allen really had much more than his house and possessions. But he wouldn't have talked about getting more staff if he couldn't afford it. 'I've only been home a few days and there wasn't time to get me new clothes so I've been wearing my mother's things.' _I had big petticoats on under my dress last night. I wondered why no-one else had such a full skirt. Why on earth did no-one tell me it wasn't the style? And why do I care?_

'Well, I'm sure everything you need will be provided,' Aruetta assured her. 'Now, I understand you had a bit of a funny turn earlier, and said you hadn't had breakfast. Someone should be along soon with some food for you.'

'I don't want it,' Serena said. 'I want to go back to bed. I don't think I'm well.' She felt perfectly all right, but it might be helpful to cultivate an impression of weakness. She sat up, took off her shoes and crept into bed fully dressed. Aruetta made an impatient 'tsk' sort of noise.

'You'll be far too hot like that,' she said. She was quite right; under the thick eiderdown, in a heavy dress with many petticoats, Serena could tell that she would soon feel stifled. She was suddenly aware that she was horribly thirsty. She kicked off the eiderdown and went into the bathroom for a drink of water.

'I think you're fine,' Aruetta said, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her. 'Shall we both stop fooling about? I'm not going to be nasty to you. There's nothing whatever in it for me, and unlike some grand ladies I could mention, I don't get any enjoyment out of seeing people squirm. In fact, it's in my interest to be good to you, so that when you're found innocent and set free you'll tell your brother how nice I am and he'll sweep me up and marry me.' She smiled. 'Joke.'

'Just the part about Allen marrying you, I hope,' Serena said.

'Of course,' Aruetta said soothingly. There was a knock at the bedroom door and she went to answer it. Serena looked around the bathroom. It was plain and clean and agreeable. The only way she was suffering was through strangeness. She could hear Aruetta speaking to someone in the corridor. The tone of their voices was normal and friendly. It wasn't like prison. The whole thing had a covering of comfort and niceness that made the thought of what it really meant hard to get to, but when you got down there it was horrifying.

_These people, these same nice people who put seashells on mantelpieces and have crushes on handsome knights, could kill me. They want to._ She pulled the ribbon out of her hair and let the curls fall round her face. Aruetta closed the door and called to her, 'Your food's here.'

It was not really breakfast; more of a light meal for any time of day. There was a bowl of chicken soup and a small bread roll.

'There now,' said Aruetta as Serena ate, 'you won't starve.' She sat down in the armchair, took some knitting out of her skirt pocket, and resumed work on a red sock. It was a rather old-womanish thing to do; she only looked about Serena's age. Serena watched her narrowly as she chewed her bread.

'Boss! Wait! Over here!' Gadeth spotted Allen on the street in front of the palace, looking lost. 'I've found him,' he said over his shoulder to the others, and led the way to Allen, who was walking slowly away from them. Allen did not seem to notice them approaching, and Gadeth had to tap him on the shoulder before he turned around.

'What happened?' Gadeth asked. The crew of the _Crusade_ had not been allowed to go with the Schezars into the city; they had waited long enough not to be noticed following and then set out with all speed. If the Boss was having trouble, they would be with him.

'We have serious problems, Gadeth,' Allen said. 'They want to punish Serena for Dilandau's crimes.'

Gadeth felt a little sick. 'They can't.'

'They can and will, if we don't stop them.'

'How?' Gadeth asked. 'What do you want to do? We couldn't storm the palace but I'm sure we could make a raid late at night. We could get her out, take her away somewhere'

'Not like that,' Allen said. 'Don't even talk about it here. I've got to think. Perhaps I could defend her. They want to make it a public trial, you see. Show justice at work. The only advantage we have there is that it will be equally visible if they try anything underhanded.'

A woman with a basket of bread elbowed past them. 'Excuse me,' she said irritably, in that special way that is code for 'get the hell out of my road.'

'Let's go and get a drink,' Gadeth said. 'Something to eat, too. We can make a plan. We can't stand around here.'

The men found a pub and went in. It was a dim and smoky sort of place, with tables set in booths. The tall backs of the wooden settles separated groups of customers. By unspoken agreement, the crew went to the bar, while Allen and Gadeth sat down in a booth.

'I can't believe it's all gone so wrong,' Allen said quietly. 'I knew there could be problems, but well, you remember I was afraid some of the men might take matters into their own hands? That was the worst I envisioned, unofficial bad behaviour. I never thought it would come down from the highest level. I don't know why I suppose I thought the worst was over.'

Gadeth watched him, silently. He just couldn't think of anything to say. He wondered if he could possibly be more worried than Allen. Every minute he was fighting down an impulse to run into the palace and start breaking heads until they gave up Serena. Of course he wouldn't do it; he wasn't stupid. It was just a visceral response to knowing she was in trouble.

'So,' said Allen, taking a deep breath and steepling his hands in front of him, 'let's take stock. My sister is in royal custody, about to stand trial for crimes she did not commit but for which she is likely to be punished as severely as the law allows. I don't know when the preliminary hearing will be held, but I assume they'll do it soon, and quickly. We need a solicitor, a very good one. I can't defend her, I don't know enough about the law. Foolishly, I always thought it was enough just to try to be good. The only way to fight them effectively is on their own terms. And so we're stuck.' He opened his hands and held them out, white-gloved palms upward, to show the range of their options: zilch.

'Did I hear you aright?' said a deep voice from behind Allen. 'Do you once again find yourself in a situation from which only I can extricate you?' Over the back of the settle, like a bespectacled sunrise, appeared the face of Dryden Fassa. He placed his chin on the top edge so that he looked like a disembodied head, and smiled genially at Gadeth. Allen refused to turn round. He bowed his head, folded his hands and rested his chin on them.

'I thought you went away,' he said, in the sort of tone usually reserved for remarks like 'Why can't you stay dead?'

'I go away, I come back,' Dryden said cheerfully. 'Things are more difficult out there than I had anticipated. I'm getting in more supplies, making arrangements for deliveries, that sort of thing. I never intended to be a hermit, just a merchant.'

'So what makes you think you can help me?' Allen asked, still with his back to Dryden. 'I want a lawyer, not a salesman.'

'They're such similar things,' Dryden said. 'One sells one's client to the jury. Or the judge as the case might be. I have many skills. Why don't you give me a try?'

'Because you're not a lawyer!' Allen said impatiently.

'My degree says I am,' Dryden said. 'A relic of my misspent youth. Naturally I repented bitterly almost as soon as I graduated, but it's the sort of thing that stays with a man, however hard he might try to expunge the mark through rambunctious living and the pursuit of arcane knowledge.'

To Gadeth's utter amazement, Allen looked up at him and silently mouthed 'Pillock,' then flicked his eyes upward to denote Dryden. It was very unlike him, but Gadeth supposed he was at the end of his tether. It was odd, how different sorts of pressure took you differently.

'Boss,' he said tentatively, 'maybe we should give him a chance.' He felt disloyal for saying it, but anything that might help Serena was okay with him. 'We couldn't have managed without him before.'

'Hear, hear!' said Dryden. 'I've heard bits and pieces about this business, and I can tell you I'm on your side. Or Serena's, rather. I'm against capital punishment on principle, anyway.'

'How can you have heard about it?' Allen cried. 'They only just told me!'

'I do speak to my own father from time to time, and he tends to be in the know about whatever the King has cooking,' Dryden said calmly. 'And if all else fails, I'll use my connections in a completely unprincipled and disgraceful manner. I'm perfect for the job. Besides, I want a project.'

'What happened to helping the common people?' Allen asked.

'Oh, I'm still on that. But I'm a very egalitarian helper. You being nobility doesn't put me off at all. And this has caught my fancy. Go on. Gadeth wants you to say yes, don't you Gadeth?'

Gadeth, shrugging, admitted that he did. 'I don't know any other lawyers, and what I've seen of him so far impresses me.'

'Fine,' said Allen. 'Whatever.' He slid out of the booth and stood up to face Dryden, who merely swivelled on his chin so as to point his face towards him. He was kneeling up on the seat of his bench. 'But if you let me down,' Allen said, 'I'll forget every reason I have to be grateful to you, and you'll have to face me man to man.'

'You don't have to be so dramatic about it,' said Dryden, 'but I understand. And I agree.' He held out his hand and they shook on the deal. Gadeth let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

'Righto,' Dryden went on, 'Lawschool Library for me. Observe with what diligence and energy I get right on the job. Your sister has nothing to fear. I'd quite like to meet her, too, if I can ... I'll have to make arrangements about that.'

'You can try,' said Allen, 'but I doubt you'll succeed.'

'You said royal custody?' Dryden asked. 'That was the phrase they used?'

'That's right.'

'Well, that's different from under arrest or imprisoned. She'll be allowed visitors, in fact she'll be kept in most ways in a manner befitting her social station. I hope you weren't imagining her in a dank little cell with straw in her hair crying herself to sleep.'

Gadeth, who had been afraid of something exactly like this, relaxed a little more. Maybe the whole thing was somehow reasonable after all.

'There's a precedent for that, at any rate,' Dryden went on. 'Last century, for example, Lord Ruthern was kept in the greatest comfort and luxury right up until they hanged, drew and quartered him. It wasn't very nice, but then by all accounts he wasn't a very nice man. I seem to recall something about a lot of dead female servants on his estate. Anyway, worry not.' He got off his bench, pulled a large pack out from under the table, shouldered it, and with a polite nod to the two men, went off to the bar to pay his bill.

'Did I do right, Gadeth?' Allen asked, watching him go.

'I think you did as right as you could, Boss,' Gadeth said. 'I'll tell the guys.'

Serena turned a page of the book she was trying to read. It was called _Elena_ and it was a rather fat novel about a virtuous young woman who generally behaved in an exemplary fashion under the most severe tribulations. She was finding it very heavy going. All the books on the shelf seemed to be of a similarly improving nature. At least it was beginning to look as though Elena might die at the end of the story, which was something to look forward to. She wondered if the choice of books had been subtly calculated to drive her mad or make her despair. She looked up from where she sat on the bed to Aruetta, still industriously knitting. The red sock was more of a stocking now.

'Can I send for visitors, if I want someone in particular?' she asked. Aruetta looked up.

'You can send a message. I'll need to see it, and so will the Ladies.'

'Suppose I wanted to see my brother?'

'I don't see that that would be a problem.' Aruetta looked thoughtful. 'You're not just trying to butter me up, are you? Letting me see him?'

'Heavens, no.' There was another quiet spell. The sock grew half an inch longer, and Elena repelled the advances of a pompous and dissolute young gentleman who thought he could have his wicked way with her. Serena wondered why he bothered. Elena would obviously be no fun whatever. Besides being completely frigid she had a tendency to quote religious texts in the middle of normal conversation, and to exclaim to her enemies 'I shall pray for you, poor wicked soul!' Serena sighed, put down the book and said,

'I want to go to the lavatory. Do you have to supervise me for that?'

'No,' said Aruetta, 'there are limits to my curiosity. Go ahead.'

Serena went into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her. Another stupid thing about big skirts, she reflected, was how you had to bundle them up when you wanted to do a simple thing like go to the loo. Probably whoever designed them had not realised that ladies had to do that sort of thing too. And you had to keep holding on to them with one arm while you got up, and wiped

Aruetta heard a thump from the bathroom, as though something had hit the floor hard. She put down her knitting and sprang up, and at the same moment heard Serena's voice, high-pitched with panic, cry

'Help! Help me! Aruetta, where are you? I'm ... I'm sick ... I ... someone help me! Allen! Jajuka!'

'You're blocking the door,' Aruetta exclaimed, shoving at it. 'Get out of the way!' The obstacle cleared, and she burst into the bathroom to find Serena huddled on the floor a little way from the door, her arms folded over her head, breathing rapidly, almost wheezing.

'What on earth is wrong?' Aruetta demanded, forcing the girl's head up.

'I want Jajuka!' Serena said, a little hysterically. 'He'll look after me.'

'I'm here to look after you,' Aruetta reminded her. 'What's the matter with you?'

'I'm dying,' Serena said. 'This body is breaking down. I'm haemorrhaging. You don't need to execute me, I'm going to bleed to death!' She began to cry in earnest.

'Where? Aruetta asked. 'Where are you bleeding? Show me.'

'I'm not going to sh-show you, it's private.'

'You don't mean Serena, are you bleeding from, um, between your legs?'

'Y-yes.' Serena looked at her fearfully. 'The soup was poisoned. You did this to me. Is it working faster than you expected or something?'

'Rubbish,' said Aruetta. 'There's nothing wrong with you. It's your monthlies. Everyone gets them. Every girl, anyway.'

'My ... do you mean a menstrual period?'

'I suppose so. You bleed for a few days each month. It's normal.'

'Oh God. Oh my God.' Serena lowered her head, covering her face with her hands. 'I knew it would happen. I knew about it, I shouldn't have but when I saw the blood I didn't think of that. I hate seeing my own blood. God, I didn't know it would be like that. It sneaks up on you. It didn't even hurt.'

'Lucky you,' said Aruetta. 'I get belly-aches something chronic.' She looked at Serena, still hunched on the floor and weeping, with relief now. She put an arm around her shoulders. 'Come on. You're all right. I know you had a fright, but it's over. I'll help you get cleaned up and sorted out. You'll get used to it. Believe me, you don't meet a lot of women who can't deal with seeing blood.' She was being so kind now that it made Serena cry harder. Aruetta tore off a strip of toilet paper and gave it to her to wipe her eyes. 'Try to calm down,' she said. 'If you're not feeling well, you'll only make it worse by upsetting yourself.'

Serena realised that Aruetta now thought her claim earlier to be feeling ill had been the truth. In the middle of tears, she thought about this quite coolly. It could be useful. Even if she could only use it once a month. But then, how many months was she likely to be here? While she thought this over, she sniffed and gulped and dried her face. Aruetta went to the bathroom cupboard and came back with a thick white cotton pad and some sort of belt arrangement. Serena had the horrible feeling that it was going to be the brassière all over again.

_I'm imprisoned. My body is imprisoned, bound up in elastic and hooks and eyes, arrangements for stopping leaks, holding up dead weight, compensating for weakness. And they've put this prison in a prison, a nice comfortable prison with a picture on the wall. It's like being in a cabin in the very middle of a ship, no sense of what's out there._

Lying on her stomach on the bed, _Elena_ open in front of her, Serena realised that she did not know what time of day it was. There were no windows, and no clock. She was not sure how many hours had passed; did not know what time it had been when she had had to leave Allen's house. She sought that inner sense of time that told her when to wake up, and found it confused. _That's breaking down too. I could stay up all night and not know it. In laboratory trials it was found that when you remove cues like changing light and watches, the human body clock settles into a diurnal rhythm with a period slightly longer than that of a real day. The patterns of the real world are not the ones we naturally adopt. And they've removed me from the real world._

_Of course, the settling into a new pattern isn't all that happens to people who lose their sense of time. There's paranoia, panic attacks, disorientation, disturbed sleep, depression would they know about that here? Or are they just being nasty on instinct?_

_Come on now,_ she told herself sternly, _it's only the first day. You could ask for a clock. You mustn't assume these people are cunning fiends because one of them pinched you. Aruetta seems like a nice person._

_Perhaps I'm supposed to start trusting her and then they'll work on me that way. At least I was paranoid already. I'm used to it._

Another hot, wet blot of blood left her body. She was aware of it every time it happened, although Aruetta said that after a while she would stop noticing. And it was humiliating every time it happened, like wetting her pants when she was a child. When she had first become Dilandau, he went through a period of bed-wetting. It was distressing for him in any case, because he could not remember anything like that happening to him before, but it was made worse by the fact that the method his trainers chose to break him of it was to announce it loudly to the other boys whenever it happened, and to force him to wash his sheets himself while everyone watched.

'How are you ever going to be leader if you're so weak?' someone had said to him. Serena could often remember exactly what someone had said to Dilandau, but not who had said it. None of the trainers ever stayed with them long, anyway. They were not supposed to get attached to individual ones. The only constant figures were the sorcerers, sombre and awesome in their black cloaks, supervising without coming near, and somewhere, like God on a cloud, Lord Dornkirk watched everything they did.

More than anything, Dilandau wanted to be the leader, to show that he was the best, that he was strong, that nothing could hurt him. He fought for control of his body, sometimes staying awake all night to make sure nothing happened. Gradually, through sheer will, he overcame the problem. Not much was said about it when it became clear that he had stopped, although someone said 'That's good to see' and someone else murmured 'Mind you don't start again, now.' But he felt the victory within himself, over himself, and it was something to stand up on.

Dilandau loved his own body, once he had made it understand what he required from it, and saw to it that it obeyed him exactly. He thought of the Dragonslayers sometimes as an extension of this personal power, like extra hands. Strictness was necessary, and sometimes they let him down in a way that he never did to himself. He was the only one he could rely on absolutely, the best and strongest, in control. He did not think anyone remembered the shameful mornings when he had been turned out of bed to clean up his mess. He commanded perfect respect. He was in control.

_And now,_ Serena thought, _this body goes off half-cocked doing things I haven't even thought of. I can make it work, but I can't trust it. _There were times when a male body wasn't exactly reliable either, but you could think of that another way, an excess of virile spirits, maybe, you could make it seem good, not like this. She wondered whether she should turn a page, but since she hadn't done that for, oh, it could be twenty minutes, it wasn't really worth trying to keep up the pretence of reading. She was well past caring what happened to Elena anyway. The cat girl was still calmly knitting in the armchair.

Aruetta cast off her stitches and looked at the long red stocking with great satisfaction. 'All done!' she said.

'What are you knitting stockings for anyway?' Serena asked. 'You must have furry legs. You won't get cold.'

'I do, though,' said Aruetta. 'I feel the cold dreadfully. You're lucky being down here on the ground floor. My bedroom is up in the attics and it's freezing on a winter morning.'

'But hot air rises,' Serena said. 'All the heat from the palace ought to collect up there.'

'I don't know about that,' Aruetta said. 'I just know I wake up cold. These are bedsocks.'

'What time is it?' Serena asked abruptly. Aruetta opened what had appeared to be a large locket on a chain around her neck. It was really a small watch. She looked at the face and after the kind of pause that tells you a person is not good at telling the time, announced 'It's about half past two in the afternoon.'

'Have you heard of a thing called lunch?' asked Serena. 'Or were you just not going to tell me so I would get confused?'

'I thought since you weren't feeling well I would wait until you said you were hungry to order anything,' Aruetta said placidly. 'Would you like something?'

'Not right now,' Serena said, because in fact she was not hungry. 'I want to write a letter.'

'All right,' said Aruetta, vacating the chair for her. 'There should be ink and paper and everything you need in the desk.'

Serena found writing a little difficult, not because she did not know how, but because somehow Dilandau's handwriting did not come naturally to her any more, but nor did the round-handed print she had used when learning to write as a little girl. She supposed she needed to develop her own style. In the meantime she wrote plainly but clearly, and without much personality.

'Dear Allen,' she wrote, 'this is to let you know that I am well and not being badly treated. I want to talk with you. Please come as soon as you can. I have various concerns that we need to discuss.'

'Do you always talk to your brother that way?' Aruetta asked, reading over her shoulder. 'It reads like a business letter.'

'You could wait until I've finished to read it,' Serena said crossly. 'You're putting me off, snooping like that.'

'Are you going to mention me?' Aruetta inquired. 'I wonder if he remembers me.'

'Aruetta says hi,' Serena wrote. 'She's this cat girl they've put in charge of me who has a huge crush on you. Stay away from her if at all possible because I fear for your virtue.'

'Oh, now that's not very kind,' said Aruetta. 'I'm not planning to jump him. I don't think I could, a strong man like that. He could wrestle me off and pin me down' A dreamy look spread over her countenance.

'Eur,' said Serena. 'Do you think about things like that a lot?'

'It passes the time while knitting,' Aruetta pointed out. 'Don't you have anyone you dream about?' For some reason the phrase made Serena feel uncomfortable.

'I don't remember my dreams,' she said coldly.

'Daydream, I mean. Someone special. You haven't had much time to find one, I suppose.'

'No there is someone I think of.'

'Who?'

'You don't know him.'

'Then it can't do any harm to tell me. Go on, what's his name?'

Serena hesitated. 'Gadeth.'

Aruetta beamed. 'You looked all coy when you said that. It was so cute.'

'I did not!'

'Oh, you did so. Next you should put, "incidentally I must tell you that I am wildly in love with a man called Gadeth and the mention of his name makes me blush."'

'Well, that's not true.'

'It is. You went all pink when I said it.'

'Stop it!' Serena put her hands over her traitor cheeks.

'Ah, the miracle of girl talk,' Aruetta said smugly. 'I've got you behaving like a nearly normal person.'

'What, blushing like an idiot and telling you all my private business?' Serena turned back to her letter, trying to think cool, un-pink thoughts. 'Don't worry,' she wrote, 'I am just teasing. I am trying to keep my spirits up but everything is very strange and it would be good to see you. You need to make an appointment with Lady Erima or Lady Kerell. I miss you. Love, Serena.'

'Pee Ess,' said Aruetta, 'Bring Gadeth.'

'Oh, stop it.' Serena blotted the letter and put it in an envelope.

'Now do a love letter to Gadeth.'

'No! I don't know how, anyway. Look how badly I write a normal letter to my brother!'

'That's a point. And I don't think the Ladies would let a missive steaming with passion get out of the palace.'

'I am not steaming with passion.'

'Here's how your letter would go,' Aruetta declared, striking an oratorical pose. 'Dear Gadeth, this is to let you know that... I am in love with you and think you are absolutely gorgeous. I want... to sleep with you. Please don't come too soon. There are various positions that we need to' She was cut off by Serena picking up the ball of red worsted from the floor and throwing it into her face.

'Cut it _out_,' Serena protested, but she was half laughing. 'You have _such_ a dirty mind!'

'I think I hit a nerve there!' Aruetta said, triumphantly.

'It doesn't have to be all about sex, you know,' Serena said primly.

'No, but it's an interesting way to start off. Consider your brother. I don't really know him, but I fancy him like mad. You can't call that love, but it could turn into it given a chance.'

'I suppose so,' Serena said. _Does that mean Gadeth doesn't really love me yet? I don't suppose I really love him, if it comes to that. But how do you know when you love someone? Do you feel different all the time?_

'A Knight of Heaven? I just bet he is!' said Aruetta, and grinned. 'Knight, night. It's a pun. Tee hee?'

'It's a horrible pun. And seriously, Aruetta, I don't like to hear you talking that way about my brother.'

'Are you really concerned about his virtue? I think you're wasting your time there.'

'It's just very weird to think of him that way.' Serena paused. 'It's as though there are about half a dozen Allens. Allen-when-we-were-children, and Allen-Dilandau-fought, and Allen-taking-care-of-me, Allen-with-his-crew, Allen-with-the-king, Allen-chasing-princesses ... and I've got to get used to all of them.'

'Everyone's like that,' Aruetta said. 'Why, you've had at least three Aruettas today already. I've been an innocent scatterbrain and a sensible nurse and a dirty little girl. And I've seen a few different Serenas.'

'You'd think that having been two different people for real it wouldn't surprise me so much in other people.'

'Everyone puts on different faces,' Aruetta said. 'It's like dressing for the occasion.' She bounced the ball of yarn from one paw to the other. 'If you've got the letter how you want to send it, pass it over. I'll call for lunch and get it taken off for clearance at the same time.' She took the letter from Serena's hand and leaned over to a speaking-tube in the wall. She raised its cover and said loudly 'Hello, hello, Serena Schezar's room, please send a page.'

'That's handy,' Serena said.

'Yes, but you can't use it,' Aruetta said. 'The man who takes speaking-tube messages is specially trained to recognise voices. He knows mine but he won't act on any message coming out of our tube in any other voice.'

'I could imitate your voice,' Serena suggested.

'I don't think you could. Yours is a lot lower than mine. And if he's in any doubt, he'll ask me to miaow. Can you miaow?'

Serena tried it. 'Miaow.'

'Not at all convincing, I'm afraid,' said Aruetta. 'Which takes a weight off my mind.'

'Now what?'

'Now we wait.'

The afternoon and evening dragged by. Aruetta was quite good conversation when she did not revert to the subject of Allen, which she did all too often. Serena continued to read _Elena_ in fits and starts, more to get the damn' thing out of the way than anything else. There was nothing much else to do, and nowhere at all to go, unless she went into the bathroom, turned around and walked back into the bedroom, which got old very quickly. Eventually Elena reformed the pompous randy gentleman and they got married. Serena, disgusted, composed an alternate ending in which the gentleman proposed and Elena turned him down on the grounds that she had been sleeping with his cousin (who Serena had just made up) for the last six months and was probably pregnant, and even if she wasn't she thought he'd be rather a disappointment after his cousin. The gentleman went mad with jealousy and ran her through with a marlinspike, then took poison and died in frothing agony. The cousin inherited all his wealth and set up a brothel. There, that was nice and sinful, an excellent antidote to all that piety.

'I really, really hate this book,' she announced on finally closing it and ramming it back on the shelf.

'Me too. It's one of Lady Kerell's favourites. I was her chambermaid for a while and I used to have to read it aloud to her while she sewed. Again and again. She liked to have _Elena_ at least eight times a year. She probably put it there to make you reform or repent or something.' Aruetta snapped open her little watch and added, 'It's seven in the evening now, just to keep you posted. I'd suggest dinner, a bath and early to bed.'

'How am I ever going to fill in tomorrow?' Serena asked woefully. 'I can't bear to read another of those books. I can't go anywhere. I wish they'd hurry up and have the trial. Or maybe this'll work in my favour, I'll go mad and be found not guilty by reason of insanity.'

'I'll try to bring you some different books tomorrow,' Aruetta promised. 'What sort do you like?'

'I really don't know. The last book I enjoyed reading was _The Boy's Book of Pirate Lore_ and I think the real fun of that was knowing my brother didn't want me to read it.'

Aruetta looked puzzled.

'It was years ago, and he didn't like me touching his stuff. Especially that book, because at the time he was dead set on becoming a pirate when he grew up.'

'Thank you,' said Aruetta, 'you've given me a great new wodge of daydream material. Allen the pirate king! He'll have to wear a shirt open to the waist for that, it's practically compulsory.'

'Damn,' said Serena. 'Hang on. How are you going to bring me books? Aren't you supposed to watch me every minute?'

'I'll get someone else to keep an eye on you for a few minutes while I pop out,' Aruetta said. 'And by the way, I'll be sleeping here. The bed's big enough for two for a reason.'

'Oh, no!'

'I don't snore, nor do I scratch in my sleep.'

'I don't understand what they're trying to do,' Serena complained. 'Some things seem calculated to break my spirit and other times they seem to be going easy on me. It's never consistent. And I want to get out of this bloody room!'

'Think about that,' said Aruetta mildly, as she went to the speaking tube to call for dinner.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	5. Chapter Five

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Five**

Oh, look at my face  
My name is might-have-been  
My name is never-was  
My name's forgotten

- Courtney Love, 'Celebrity Skin'

Serena was in a dark place, sitting on rough ground. This was not the usual nightmare, but it felt bad nevertheless. She was cold and could not move properly. She tried to call for help, and her voice would not work. She became aware of a strong, unpleasant smell. It took her a moment to place it.

'Deceptant?'

'That's right.' The voice was right behind her, and although she wanted desperately to turn around fast, her neck and back were stiff and immobile, her limbs heavy and limp, like damp sandbags, and she had to remain sitting while the Deceptant walked around her, and crouched in front of her, bringing his face close to hers. His rank smell seemed to roll off him in waves and she felt an old, familiar revulsion. Her face was reflected in the dark centres of his eyes, and it was not Serena's face. Although she felt like Serena, the face was Dilandau's, red eyes, long scar and all. She watched, and it metamorphosed into her face as a child then a younger, more cocky Dilandau, still whole and beautiful then, oddly, her mother's, pale and tense. Serena's field of vision pulled back from its tight focus on the dark mirror of the pupil and she found that the Deceptant's face had taken on the form she now thought of as hers.

'Stop that,' she said hoarsely. 'You can't take my face.'

'It's been taken from you before,' said the Deceptant. 'Do you know my name?'

Serena thought about it. 'If I do, I can't remember it. What do you people want with names, anyway?'

'The same thing everyone wants. To know who they are. To know who people think they are. I'll tell you my name. I was called Zongi.'

'Dilandau killed you.'

'Don't speak in that childish way. Say "I".'

'It's not the same person,' Serena said.

'She warned me I was going to die soon. The girl from the Phantom Moon, I mean. Some warnings are not the kind you can do anything about.'

'Kanzaki Hitomi?' Serena asked. 'Perhaps it was her fault.'

'We all make choices,' Zongi said. 'We shape the world two ways, with what we believe and what we choose. Hitomi did not choose what would happen to me, and she did not know then that she could choose to believe.'

'This is much too metaphysical for me,' Serena said. 'Are you telling me that I've got a choice? Or that I should believe in myself, or something trite like that?'

'No,' said Zongi, and smiled. 'I'm telling you that you are just like me. You always were. A changing thing that others could use, a tool of war. And that was why you feared and despised me, because you saw yourself in my eyes.'

'Also,' Serena said, with difficulty because her throat would not open fully, 'because you're a cowardly murderer, and you killed Migel Labariel, and you stink.'

'To be despised, to be alone. That's what it's like for people like us.'

'I'm not like you! Allen loves me! Jajuka loved me. Gadeth might still love me. I have a real life. I'm a real person.'

'You're changing again,' Zongi said, and the world of the dream shifted, and Serena found she was up to her chin in her own red blood. The smell, strong and rusty, sickened her more than Zongi's odour. She was going to drown soon. The level was rising. She stood on tip-toe, tilted her head back to keep her nose and mouth above the surface, but it lapped higher. She tried to scream and her throat clamped shut, producing no sound. A strand of red worsted dangled before her eyes and she reached up one gory arm and grabbed at it desperately.

'Wake up! You're having a nightmare. Can you hear me, Serena? Wake up!'

Serena's eyes opened and she knew she was in bed, on her back, sheets twisted around her legs and her night-gown plastered to her with sweat. Aruetta was leaning over her, invisible because in this room at night the darkness was total. Serena reached out a hand and touched soft fur, bumping against bone, perhaps a nose.

'Watch it there,' said Aruetta, and pulled away. 'What were you dreaming about? You were sort of grunting and making little panicky whimper sounds. And then you said, no, you _groaned_ "Blood, blood, my blood." It was really scary.'

'I I don't know blood? I can't remember.'

'I mean, at first you were just breathing hard, and I thought "o-ho, wicked Gadeth dream," but I could tell pretty quickly that you weren't enjoying it.'

'I was I think I was talking to someone, and they were saying things I didn't want to hear, and wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain.'

'Not Gadeth?'

'Definitely not Gadeth. I've never dreamed about him.'

'I thought you said you don't remember your dreams? You seem pretty vague about this one.'

'I just I just know I haven't. He's only in the real world. I like it that way.'

'I always enjoy Allen dreams.' You could hear the smile in her voice.

'Well, I think it's a bit different,' Serena said irritably. Her throat was still sticky and tight.

'My God, you can sweat,' said Aruetta. Serena felt her hand on her forehead. 'Maybe you're really not well. I'm going to ask someone to have a look at you in the morning.'

'I need a drink of water,' Serena said, and started to sit up, but Aruetta pushed her down again. 

'I'll get it,' she said, and crawled over the end of the bed and padded off into the blackness.

'How can you find your way?' Serena asked. 

'I'm a cat,' Aruetta replied, over the sound of pouring water. 'I don't always need to be able to see.' She came back, carefully, carrying a cup that usually stood on the shelf over the basin. Reaching out, she found Serena's hand and put the cup into it. 

'Thanks very much.' Serena took a gulp of water; since she was still half-lying and it was so dark, she misjudged it a little and spilled some down her chin. The coldness was refreshing. Really, she wished she could get into a cold bath and stay there until she was numb. She took another gulp and held it in her mouth, letting the coolness seep out of the water and into her head. That was all she wanted for the moment; she put the cup down on the bedside table, and Aruetta climbed back into bed.

'Now,' the cat girl said, 'just think of things you like until you go back to sleep. Concentrate on them. It'll take your mind off whatever you were dreaming, and stop you going back into the same dream.'

'I suppose you're going to tell me to think about Gadeth.'

'I wasn't, actually, but if you want to that's fine.'

The dark, stuffy room was silent for a few moments. Then Serena said, 'I keep thinking about him even when I don't mean to.'

'That's how it goes,' Aruetta said, rolling over and making herself comfortable. 'When completely unrelated things start reminding you of him you know you've got it really bad. Do you wonder things like what he looks like when he first wakes up in the morning?'

'I don't need to wonder, I know. All rumpled up, and his face looks softer than usual, and he yawns enormously.'

There was another little silence. 'Exactly how far have things gotten with you two?' Aruetta spoke carefully, as though afraid to give offence, and Serena suddenly became afraid that she was somehow saying too much, that it was foolish to think of this girl as a friend even if she behaved like one, and that even if her interest in Gadeth seemed like a harmless, agreeable subject for conversation, answering this question could somehow incriminate her.

'It's private, really,' she said, a little stiffly, and turned away from the other girl.

_Why have I talked so much to her, anyway? Was I that desperate for 'girl talk'? I suppose it's nice to be with someone who doesn't seem to mind what I say. Good grief, if Allen could hear the way she goes on he'd I'm not sure what he'd do. Actually, he'd probably just ignore her._

_I wish he'd come and rescue me. It's not very heroic or chivalrous to just sit back and take this._ Suddenly, it occurred to Serena that this was what she was doing. All day, she had not once thought seriously and practically about ways of escaping. Both the room and her companion made her feel simultaneously, contradictorily, lulled and worried, and somehow she could not think straight. The scope of her thoughts seemed to have narrowed with the dimensions of her world. Knowing this didn't seem to help, because she still could not think what to do about it. _Some warnings are not the kind that you can do anything about._ Where did she know that from? She felt it was true. Sometimes all a warning let you do was brace yourself for the inevitable.

_But I'm not powerless. Allen will come to see me and we'll work something out. And if I do have to die well, I won't think about that. Just that if I have to, I'll die well._ With that resolution, she tried to follow Aruetta's advice for going back to sleep, and fixed on thinking about the beach she had discovered. _I should have gone swimming. Just didn't think of it. And I might not get the chance again._

Allen followed Lady Erima down the corridors with a growing sense of indignation. The woman's manner was positively insulting. Allen naturally thought of all women as deserving of his courtesy, but still, there were some for whom he had to make an effort. Serena's odd, stilted-sounding letter had been passed to him yesterday evening when, tired and desolate, he finally got home. So it was back and forth again, making a constant, conscious effort to be polite, to be pleasant, to deal with the situation sensibly when he could cheerfully have hit someone. Or alternately, sat down and cried. 

The letter worried him; its baldness suggested it had been written under close supervision, but then what was the meaning of the joke about the girl with a crush on him? Was Serena trying to convey some sort of coded message? If she was, it was too obscure. He had gone over the letter several times, trying to think if 'cat girl' or 'virtue' could be any kind of reference, but drew a blank every time. The only cat girls he could think of offhand were Meruru from Fanelia and those two Enhanced Luck soldiers from Zaibach ... even supposing Serena was referring to them, which seemed unlikely, what could that mean?

The other, more disturbing, possibility was that Serena's letter did not make sense because she was losing her senses. How fragile was she? Could she cope with this situation? Notwithstanding what Dryden had said, was she being decently treated? He would have to speak to Millerna or Elise about this; if he could do nothing, surely they had some influence over their father. Even if the trial could not be called off, perhaps he could get back custody of his sister for the meantime.

Lady Erima stopped in front of a blue door, and Allen almost walked into her, but checked his steps and managed to make his halt look natural. The woman knocked on the door. After a moment it was opened slightly, and a tousled golden head appeared in the crack. It was indeed a cat girl, the Aruetta of the letter. So perhaps that was not symbolic at all, just real and strange. She looked flustered, and when she saw Allen standing behind Lady Erima, she blushed furiously and tried to shut the door again.

'What on earth is going on?' asked Lady Erima sharply. 'Let us in. Sir Allen has come to visit his sister.'

'You can't come in,' the girl said. 'I'm sorry, you just can't.'

'Is something wrong?' Allen asked, immediately fearing the worst. _Come on now,_ he told himself, _don't panic._ 'Or is she not up yet? She won't mind if it's just me.' It was still early in the morning, after all. Lady Erima had looked thoroughly put out about that, but he had insisted, as nicely but firmly as he could.

'I, I'm sorry, sir, you can't right now,' Aruetta stammered. 'In a minute, maybe, but'

The door opened wider, not because Aruetta had opened it, but because someone had come up behind her and jerked it away from her. It was Millerna, looking as though she too had only just got up. She was not made up, her hair was in a loose braid and she was wearing a dressing-gown. Her manner, though, was alert and brisk. Allen was struck again by how much more confident and self-possessed she had become. He sometimes wondered if that was Dryden's influence on her, which was a very discomfiting thought. He did not want to think Dryden had that much of an effect on her.

'Just wait outside,' she said. 'We'll let you in as soon as possible.'

'Princess, what are you doing here?' Allen asked, bewildered. 'What's happening?'

'She's not very well, but everything's under control,' Millerna said. 'Really. Give us a minute, all right? Aruetta, go and tell my father I want to speak to him immediately I'm finished here.'

'Tell the _King_?' Aruetta squeaked. '_Tell_ him?' She looked as though she doubted that such a thing were possible.

'Go on,' Millerna said. 'I can deal with things here.' Aruetta turned sideways and came out of the door, forcing Allen and Lady Erima to step back. She curtsied awkwardly to them; she was still in her nightshirt. She looked up shyly, found Allen was looking at her, reddened again and took off running. Allen tried to look over Millerna's shoulder into the room, but she was already closing the door again and all he could see was the wallpaper. Then the door shut in his face.

'_Well!_' said Lady Erima. 'I don't know what's going on here, but it would appear that your precious sister sows discord wherever she goes.'

Allen stared at her. 'Someone is sick, and that's all you can say? Show some consideration!'

She drew herself up and sniffed at him. 'You can wait here,' she said brusquely, and walked away.

Allen raised his hands, then let them fall to his sides. He felt completely helpless; everyone knew more than him, and what he did know was useless.

Serena had been woken up by Aruetta lighting a candle. The soft scratch of the match was enough to bring her out of the light, unrestful doze she had been in.

'Good morning,' Aruetta said, standing by the bed, candlestick in hand. 'No more bad dreams, I hope?'

'No more dreams,' Serena replied. 'So it's morning?'

'I said so, didn't I? Come on. Up's a daisy.' Aruetta turned away to start lighting the lamps. She heard the heavy rustle of Serena pushing back the eiderdown. There was a silence, then a broken gasp from Serena.

'I ... I've bled again.'

'You do sometimes get little leaks at night,' Aruetta said calmly. 'Don't worry. We'll just get clean sheets. It washes out in cold water.' But even as she was speaking, she thought there had been a note of panic in Serena's voice, and she turned around. 'Oh my goodness.'

There was far too much blood. It stained the sheet around Serena dark red, and there were blotches all over her night-gown from the waist down. It looked as though someone had stabbed her in the night. Serena stared at it in dull horror. She was so pale that her skin looked yellowish, and there were grey shadows under her eyes. 'I am dying,' she said softly.

'Oh my goodness,' Aruetta repeated blankly. 'That's really not normal. That's, that's awful. Oh Serena, does it hurt?' She didn't reply, but lay back down, pulling the eiderdown over herself, pulling it up to her chin and clutching it tightly. She stared fixedly at the ceiling and thought, _This is disgusting. I'm disgusting._

'I could smell blood but I didn't realise how much ... I'm calling a doctor,' Aruetta said, making up her mind and heading for the speaking tube.

'Don't! Please, don't.' Serena's voice was pleading.

'Well, what do you want? I can't not do anything. I'm responsible for you. You've got to see a doctor.'

Something Gadeth had said came back to Serena. It almost pained her to think about him here and now, and it was frightening how distant the memory was, but it was there and she could use it.

'I'll see Princess Millerna. She's a doctor, isn't she? I know she saved Allen's life once.'

'I don't know if she's fully qualified,' Aruetta said fretfully. 'But I'll see if she'll come.'

This meant writing a long, polite note to the princess, calling a page via the speaking tube, waiting for him to arrive, and waiting for him to deliver the note.

'I'm not leaving you alone,' Aruetta said. She had lit all the lamps now, and was fidgeting about. She did not quite dare to touch Serena in case she made her worse somehow, or disturbed things that would tell Millerna what was wrong, so she really had nothing to do but worry. 'Do you want a drink of water? Is there anything I can do?'

Quite soon after the page left, there was a brisk knock at the door. Aruetta ran to open it, and Millerna walked straight in, still in her night-clothes, carrying a blue medical bag.

'I came as soon as I heard,' she said. 'Don't worry, Serena, you're going to be all right. Let me see the problem.' She pulled back the covers with a professional air, and blenched slightly at the mess. But she went on to examine Serena in an entirely competent way. Serena followed instructions and answered gentle, clinical questions with a feeling of dull misery. Nothing could be more different from the dinner party, when she thought she had made a good impression, when Allen had looked proud of her, when, despite curious looks from a few of the guests, she had not attracted unusual or hostile attention. The golden-haired princess had smiled at her and treated her like a welcome guest. 

_And now she has to see me like this. Like I really am. I'm such a mess! It's not normal. It must be repulsive. She might pity me after this but she'll never like me. How can I expect Gadeth to love a person like this? There's only Allen left, and he has to love me because he's my brother! He probably wishes he could get rid of me again. I'm nothing but trouble. He's been so kind to me and I've just gotten him into more trouble and nothing's going to work out right._

A sob escaped her, a stupid, embarrassing sob. Millerna looked up; she was giving her a careful sponge bath while Aruetta held a bowl of warm water.

'Does it hurt? You said before it wasn't painful.'

'No, it doesn't hurt at all.' Serena sniffed fiercely, but now the tears had started they seemed to be another uncontrollable leak.

'It's extremely strange,' said Millerna, putting the sponge back in the bowl. 'I can't find anything wrong, certainly no physical injuries. You don't have a fever or rash, your glands are fine, you say you don't have any pains and as far as I can tell, you're not bleeding any more. It isn't at all like a haemmhorage. It's as though you had one very heavy flux, all in a few hours, rather than over a few days. This is a remarkable amount of blood in any case, which would explain why you look so washed-out. But I really can't tell what's caused this. Ideally, I'd like to keep you under observation see what happens next month, I suppose. It could be just a settling-in thing, although, again, I don't understand why it would take this form. I'm afraid that, given your rather unique circumstances, it's hard to predict how things will go.'

'You mean this could happen every month?' Serena asked, horrified.

'I just don't know. You could take the view that it's convenient to get it out of the way so quickly, I suppose.'

'I probably won't live to see it happen again anyway,' Serena said.

'Don't talk like that. I'm on your side.' Millerna spoke sternly, but she was smiling.

'How can you be? I mean, really. You're a princess of Asturia. You know what I was.'

'The important word in that is _was_,' Millerna said. 'I admit I wasn't sure about you at first, but I trust Allen, and he trusts you. And I can't see someone in as much trouble as you are without feeling I should try to help. Why do you think I studied medicine? So I could do something practical to help. You didn't get to talk much to my sister at the dinner party, did you? She doesn't talk much anyway. But she sees things very differently to me; she has ideas about helping people indirectly, through status somehow. I'm not sure how that's supposed to work because as I see it the only way to help people is to _do_ things.'

'Yes, but then why are you helping me? Aren't there lots of people who need it more? When we were coming into the city I saw refugee camps and so many ruined houses'

'I do do things to help them,' Millerna said. 'Listen, if you feel badly about what happened ... and I get the impression that you do, although to my mind it wasn't your fault ... you could too. They always want volunteers at the camps. You can't rebuild the city, but you could help the people who are doing it.'

'Could I really?' Serena said. It seemed outside the bounds of possibility. 'But they wouldn't let me out.' She hated herself for sounding so weak but it was how she felt. _Am I even the same person who borrowed Allen's clothes and challenged Gadeth? Haven't I got any gumption left?_

'They will,' Millerna said, and smiled again. It was a sweet smile but there was steel behind it. 'I'm going to make the most terrible fuss. For one thing, I'm going to get you moved to my rooms where I can keep an eye on you. I want you to rest for a while before you attempt anything energetic. When you're feeling strong we can start on new projects.'

'What about the trial?' Aruetta asked. 'They told me it was going to be quite soon.'

'It'll be a little while yet,' Millerna said. 'They want to really publicise it. They're hoping for people to come from all over the country, and Fanelia and Freid too, so they need to allow for travelling time. Father wants to be seen as a really prominent leader in the brave new post-war world. That's the phrase his councillors use. And a show trial like this, as far as he's concerned, is a wonderful opportunity to show off how wise and leaderly he is.' She made a little face as though she tasted something nasty.

'I thought it was about me,' Serena said, feeling insulted somehow. There was a knock at the door then, and Aruetta went to answer it. She did not seem to be dealing well with whoever it was, so Millerna went to join her at the door. Serena pulled the quilt up again and lay still, watching their backs. She gathered from what she could hear that Allen had come to see her, which gave her mixed feelings of utter gladness and odd shame. She was clean now, but she was still in a blood-stained night-gown, and she did not want to meet Allen like this. She found herself thinking of how white his gloves always were. That did not fit with someone as disgracefully messy as she felt herself to be.

Aruetta went out and Millerna shut the door. 

'Up you get,' she said cheerfully, turning to Serena. 'When you're dressed we'll walk along to my room, and you and Allen can have a nice long talk while I go and cajole my father. I'll start with cajolery and if that doesn't work I'll make dire threats.' She picked up Serena's underclothes, which Aruetta had hung over the back of the chair, and tossed them to her.

'We'll get you fresh things too,' she promised.

A few minutes later, Serena Schezar emerged from the small room where she had been kept, and threw her arms around her brother, who was waiting for her.

That evening, another anonymous room was quietly filled by people who were really, or at least officially, elsewhere. No-one looked directly at anyone else; they somehow felt that eye contact did not fit the situation. No-one, and this was important, said 'I' or 'me.' This was not a time or place for individuality.

'This is a disturbing new development,' said one figure, standing by the curtained window. 'Has everyone read the reports?'

There was a blurred chorus of yesses.

'We were not warned that there might be physical disruptions of this kind,' someone else said, and there were several murmurs of agreement, with a tinge of indignation.

'It was not possible to predict,' another voice said, smoothly. 'This is the first reversion it has been possible to observe for this period of time. It is not surprising, however, that it should become unstable. There were other reversions during the early trials, none of which survived.'

'You should have _said_,' the second speaker muttered. 'Now the younger Princess has taken up her cause. This is very inconvenient.'

'Given the subject's apparent stability, we did not wish to give alarmist warnings when continued stability was quite probable. Doubt would not help the situation. In any case, the manner of failure would not be predictable. Each reversion failed in a different way. There was one case of internal bleeding, but the biological processes concerned are quite different.' The smooth voice was confident and inexpressive.

'Well, what do we do now? Your "subject" is now sitting down to dinner in the Princess' apartments. So much for environmental controls.'

'Given the circumstances, we recommend that you abandon the period of psychological preparation and proceed to the trial. The trial date should be brought forward in accordance with this. Too long a delay would permit the establishment of a dangerously firm network of liaisons. This would be harmful from any perspective.'

'The trial date will not be changed,' said a quiet, firm voice which had not spoken before. Unlike the other voices, it might have been female, but no-one present was prepared to speculate about that. Everyone waited for it to say something more, but it did not. Apparently, it felt that this refusal was enough in itself.

'This is our strongest recommendation,' said the smooth voice.

'All your recommendations are taken into consideration. The trial date will not be changed. King Aston is very firm on this point.' The quiet voice was implacable.

'Perhaps King Aston does not fully understand how a matter like this works,' said the smooth voice. It sounded very slightly patronising now, but an acute observer might have detected an undertone of tension. 'In addition, we wish to register our concern at His Majesty's choice of attendant. This introduces an unwelcome random factor. We ourselves have learned from experience in this field. Particularly with this subject, the choice could be problematic.'

'His Majesty's decisions are final,' replied the quiet one. 'He is King here.'

There was a short pause. Though the room was too dark for any of the speakers to see one another clearly, one might have gotten the impression that the two were staring one another out. The smooth speaker broke first.

'We do not question the King's judgement. We operate merely in an expert advisory capacity.'

'Yes.'

'So,' said the one by the curtains, 'we proceed and hope for the best?'

'We do not hope. We believe.'

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	6. Chapter Six

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Six**

Serena spent that night on a divan in Princess Millerna's apartments. She had felt strange all day; on one hand, immensely relieved that she was no longer to be confined, that she could look out a window or see a clock any time she wanted, that she could see Allen whenever she liked without going through the iron Ladies, that Millerna continued to smile at her and speak pleasantly, as she would to a normal, nice person who had gotten into trouble through no fault of her own. On the other, she seemed to have shrunk somehow, and she felt very small and bewildered in the world. It was like going from a dark room into bright sunlight, but the dazzled feeling did not wear off. She lay on the couch with her hands clasped under the pillow, behind her head, and tried to put things together in her mind. Thoughts rose and fell, changed places in her head.

_I think I've been shrinking like this ever since I changed over. A bit at a time. In the end there'll be nothing left of me. But what is there of me to be shrinking in the first place? My childhood memories? I have them all, like pressed flowers in a scrapbook. In fact, I remember making scrapbooks when I was small, very clearly. Nothing is happening to my memory. _

Dilandau had had a nightmare in which he was trapped in a suit of armour which kept getting smaller. He could not take it off and he could not die, even when it broke his bones. This nightmare had come just once, during a period of preparation before his first Alseides flight, while he was still getting used to working with the machine, and once he knew the enemy he had simply refused to dream it again. It was a stupid dream, based on an irrational fear.

_Days slip away and I haven't gotten anything done. What did I do all day today? Talked with Allen about what happened while we were apart, tried on new clothes, got measured for things, had lunch, felt wiped out after lunch, slept for a long time, which was stupid because I bet now I won't be able to fall asleep for ages, met my lawyer_

The lawyer had come as a surprise to her. Lawyers did not figure prominently in Zaibach society, and as a child she had not really been aware they existed, so she had no firm preconceived idea of what they should look like, but even so she had certainly not expected long hair tied up with a scarf whose pointed ends reminded her of rabbit ears. For someone who was supposed to defend her life with mere words, he seemed awfully confident and cheerful. When Millerna heard he was coming, she refused to stay in the room.

'I understand,' Allen had said softly. 'It must be too painful for you.' The remark was not directed at Serena, so she was not sure if she should be listening. She looked out the window, tried to find shapes in the clouds. Unfortunately, they were fluffy cumulonimbus whose curves reminded her of the carapace of an Oreades.

'I don't know about painful,' Millerna said. 'But I don't think it would be a good idea for us to see each other again just now. I'm more worried about how he would feel.'

_What happened there, anyway?_ Serena wondered. Neither her own memory nor Dilandau's was any help to her on this. _Is the lawyer an old lover of Millerna's? I'd somehow had the impression Allen was the only man she was involved with._

She wanted to ask, but the opportunity did not arise. Millerna went out after that conversation, and the lawyer arrived almost immediately afterwards, giving Serena something else again to wonder about. He hardly seemed like Millerna's type, so perhaps the lover hypothesis was wrong, but then what was he to her? She decided to let Allen do the talking.

'Serena,' Allen said, 'this is Dryden Fassa, who will represent you in court. Dryden, this is my sister Serena Schezar.' He was very polite about it, in a way that Serena was beginning to think meant he was not very happy. The lawyer bowed and gave her a crooked, curly smile. Serena wondered whether she should get up from her seat and curtsey back, but Allen placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing down ever so slightly, and said to Dryden, 'Please excuse her for not rising. She has not been well, and should not exert herself.' The pressure, Serena understood, was a cue. It did not seem to her that getting up and curtseying counted as exertion. Allen was being overprotective again.

'Oh, no problem,' said Dryden cheerfully, and sat down on the sofa next to Serena. Allen stood still for a moment, then moved over to sit in a chair opposite. _Did that not go the way he wanted?_ Serena wondered. _I always have to guess. I never know answers for certain._

'You and I will have to get to know each other quite well, Serena,' Dryden said, interrupting her thoughts. 'Issues of character are going to be very important in this trial, so I have to understand you to represent you. And from the way you stared at me when I came in I think you want to know more about me.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare.' Why am I apologising?

'It's quite all right. I was flattered.' Allen frowned at that, and Serena wondered what on earth she could say. 'I mean, let's face it, I'm pretty different to most of the men you've seen, I expect?'

'Well, it's not that you're different,' Serena said carefully, wishing Allen would say something to help her out. It was all very well to decide to let someone else do the talking, but then it helped if they actually talked. 'You just, um, you just have a different manner.'

'I have to say I'm surprised at yours. What happened to racing around in trousers getting into sword fights?'

'Who told you about that?' Allen asked, a little sharply.

'I spoke to your sergeant,' Dryden said, equally mildly. 'He gave me a glowing account of a very vigorous, almost aggressive young woman. And here I find her looking like a damp cat. It's hard to believe it's the same person. I hope we're not talking about a serious illness. What exactly is the problem?'

'Women's trouble,' Allen said, before Serena could tell him.

'That isn't very informative.'

'Oh, it was _awful_,' Serena said, suddenly anxious to tell the story. 'You never _saw_ so much' she trailed off as Allen glared at her. 'What?' she asked, beginning to feel annoyed. 'Can you not just say don't tell him about the blood instead of giving me meaningful looks I don't know the meaning of?'

'Blood?' said Dryden, looking concerned.

'Yes, blood. Heaps of it. It's stopped now and I'm feeling better,' Serena said firmly. 'It's not going to happen again.' _I will it not to happen again. _

'Good!' said Dryden. 'Good. We'll need you strong and well. You're looking brighter already. Hey, Allen, say something else to annoy her. It makes her talk.'

'I'm not trying to annoy her,' Allen protested.

'Does he annoy you, Serena?' Dryden asked solicitously.

'Well, a bit. Sometimes. Because he fusses.' Serena darted an apologetic look at Allen.

'Do you hear that, Allen? You fuss,' Dryden reported.

'Of course I heard that! Serena, you must understand that I am acting in your best interests.'

'Do you even know what I'm interested in?'

'That isn't what it means,' Allen began patronisingly, but Serena cut him off.

'I tried to explain to you. I can't match up to an idea you've got. And yes, you're nice, and yes, you're kind, and yes, I love you, but ' she faded off. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't get angry with you I'm not even sure what I'm angry about.'

'Oh, pooh. It was getting good. What are you interested in, incidentally?' Dryden looked at her keenly.

'Are you trying to stir up trouble?' Allen asked. Dryden shushed him and pointed at Serena.

'Swimming,' Serena said quickly, because Allen was glowering, 'I think I'm quite interested in swimming. And fencing. And dancing. I want to learn to dance properly.'

'You will,' said Dryden. 'I promise. I've found out that your hearing will be presided over by Justice Keller. He has a daughter about your age. That may work in our favour. What I need you to do is be good. If we can give a perfect report of your conduct since returning to, uh, female form, that will really help.'

He went on to outline his strategy for arguing the case. There was simply no precedent for anything of the kind, he said, so they were going to have to push for a landmark decision. At least there was no precedent against them. He talked on and on, making little jokes, and Serena listened dutifully. After a while, she reached over and took Allen's hand, trying to make things better. He smiled at her, but she still felt a tightness in her chest.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	7. Chapter Seven

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Seven**

The door opened in a way that suggested hesitation on the part of the opener. A small, furry face gave Gadeth a look of the severe 'how do I know you're not a murderer or an encyclopaedia salesman?' variety.

'Who shall I say is calling?' Aruetta enquired.

'Gadeth,' Gadeth said, 'Gadeth to see Serena Schezar, if that's all right.'

This produced an unexpected reaction; the cat girl gave a sort of gasp of laughter and smothered it with her hands. 'I'll tell her you're here,' she said, and slammed the door.

'What the hell was that all about?' Gadeth asked the doorknob. He looked down at himself; as far as he could tell, he was no more than usually disreputable. Admittedly, it was his first time visiting a princess' apartments, and perhaps there was something you were supposed to say or do that he didn't know about. Maybe it was the hair. He just knew it had been a mistake to try to look sharp ... probably overdid the pomade. There was a picture hanging on the wall by the door with an unusual frame: it was made of mirror glass. With a brief grateful thought directed at whatever god oversees this sort of serendipity, Gadeth checked himself out, decided he looked like a smarmy git, and quickly pushed his fingers through his hair until it looked like it belonged to him again.

He was mildly embarrassed by his own wish to impress, or to please Serena; when he was younger he had always believed you grew out of that kind of desperation. Apparently not. At least he had learned that telling stories about times when he was incredibly brave or clever didn't work nearly as well as telling stories in which he looked a bit of a fool, but a nice one. Men like the Boss got sighs of admiration; Gadeth was actually quite happy about getting laughs as long as the end result was the same. Still, what kind of end result was he hoping for here?

The door opened again and the blonde cat girl caught him staring at himself. She gave him a very bright-eyed smile and said 'She'll see you now.'

She showed Gadeth into a high-ceilinged room decorated in yellow and white, where Serena was sitting cross-legged on a sort of stool-cushion thing, wearing an outfit she must have borrowed from the princess; a pinkish-white blouse and those tight black trousers worn with a sort of tied-on skirt over them. It had always looked to Gadeth as though the princess was wearing an apron backwards, and it was strange to see Serena dressed just like her. Now that he thought about it, except for the party dress, whenever he'd seen her she'd been wearing borrowed clothes. Always some kind of temporary arrangement. That couldn't be helping her settle down.

She didn't look settled now, either, but nervous and embarrassed. Almost shy.

'Hello,' she said, and opened her mouth as if to say something else, but shut it again. She shot a look at the cat girl.

'Ooh, you want to be alo-one.' Aruetta fluttered her eyelashes at the two of them and grinned. Serena cringed. 'Sorry. I still have to at least stay in the same room as you. You're on thin ice with the King, young lady. But never let it be said that I stand in the way of true love ... I'll go and sit in the window seat and lose myself in embroidery. I won't even notice unless you make a lot of noise.'

Apparently the hideous hot embarrassment when anyone made arch remarks about your courtship was not something you grew out of either. _I'm getting enough of this from the crew, _Gadeth thought. _I can't take it from little furballs too. I could laugh it off in front of them, but Serena's here, and how would she feel?_

From the look of her, she felt the same way he did. She blushed furiously, and took a swipe at the cat girl as she made her way past to the window seat. The girl dodged and laughed. 'Oh, you're embarrassed! It must be true!'

'Keep this up, and I'll show a certain someone your Allen Scrapbook,' Serena warned.

'You wouldn't!' Aruetta said, but looked uncertain. She hurried over to the window seat and started burrowing through a workbasket.

Serena looked at Gadeth, and made an isn't-this-awful face.

'Please sit down,' she said. 'Go on. If you keep standing up I'll have to get up too and Aruetta will tell on me to Princess Millerna, who says I've got to Keep Still and Rest. I'm going out of my skull. They wanted me to stay in bed, but I feel too well for that.'

'You look well! You look very well.' _Oh, smooth. Very smooth._ Gadeth sat down on a yellow chair and stood up again immediately, because he had sat on a book. 'Is this yours?' It was a hefty little tome with 'Elena' on the cover in gold block print.

'It's an old enemy,' Serena said. 'I'm planning to deface the engravings inside. Moustaches and spectacles, that kind of thing. It's an act of political protest.' She smiled and took the book from his hand. The smile seemed to make a lot of things better. Gadeth settled himself in the chair without further difficulty.

'So what's really been going on?' he asked. 'Are they treating you all right? What was the sealed-room business about?'

'I don't really know,' Serena said. 'I suppose they were trying to intimidate me. I think,' lowering her voice and glancing toward the window seat, 'Aruetta knows more about it than she's saying, but she seems all right except for that. In fact, she's really funny sometimes ... she talks like a courtesan and then when Allen came to see me yesterday she went all quiet and looked scared to death if he even spoke to her. He's in and out of here all the time now, and I'm getting good mileage out of teasing her about it.'

'And you really are all right? The Boss wouldn't tell me exactly what was wrong, but you were sick, weren't you?'

Serena tensed slightly, and for a moment it was as if a curtain twitched back and a miserable, worried face peeped out at him. It was gone almost before he could be sure he had seen it.

'It was, um, women's trouble,' she said. 'Over now! I'm fine, really. I guess I have to get used to things like that now. Women's trouble. The idea seems to be that it's troublesome just being a woman.' She smiled again, but it seemed a brittle smile. 'I'm sorry about Aruetta teasing us like that. I well, I told her I liked you, and she sort of seized on it and blew it up.'

'Oh, it's okay.' _You told her you liked me? Just 'liked'? Or are you playing it down because she played it up, and the truth is in between?_

There was a short silence, and as one sometimes does, Serena tried to break it by saying something, anything.

'You'll never guess what this thing I'm sitting on is called. It's a pouffe. Isn't that ridiculous? I've worked out why, too. Look.' She placed her hands on either side of the seat, then braced her arms and lifted her body a few inches so that her arms supported her weight. The cushioned top of the pouffe rose up from the depression her sitting on it had made. 'And listen.' She dropped back onto the seat, which did, indeed, go 'pouffe.' 

'I've been playing little games like that all day, it's pathetic,' she said brightly. 'No other way to work off my energy! And they've been measuring me for new clothes, and I met my lawyer, Dryden Fassa, who by the way I get the impression Allen doesn't like much, so what's going on there?'

'Oh, it's complicated,' Gadeth said. The conversation was skittering about like a drop of water in a hot pan. 'It's got to do with your father, and the Boss feeling like Dryden showed him up and of course he's not happy about Dryden getting to marry Princess Millerna, even if that seems to have gone by the bye now. I think basically it's just a personality conflict. They're the sort of people who annoy each other.'

'They were _married?_'Serena repeated. 'Well, that explains a lot. She didn't want to stay in the room while we talked. I can't believe they were married. Isn't he _funny?_ I liked him a lot, though.'

_What must I sound like to him? Why can't I talk sensibly?I don't really know what I want to say. I'm prattling, that's what I'm doing. And my heart is beating stupidly hard and I wish we could just get out of this room._ Gadeth was looking at her uncertainly. _He doesn't like me any more. He thinks I'm an empty-headed little bunny and he's not interested. What can I do? What made him like me in the first place?Can I do it again?_

'Have you done something different with your hair?' he asked abruptly. 

_My hair? He's thinking about my hair? What's wrong with it?_ 'It just seems to be growing very fast,' she said, and put her hand to her head as though to check on its progress. 'Allen says it's a family thing. I keep wondering if it's trying to catch up on all the growing it would have done if I hadn't been changed over, or something like that. I really want to get it cut short again.'

'It was nice short.' _That's it,_ Serena resolved, _if I have to cut it myself I'm going back to the old look._ 'It's ... well, it's pretty like this too.'

_I think I've mentally regressed to twelve,_ Gadeth thought. _Can't I even manage a conversation? Why is it so hard to talk to her? The look on her face she doesn't look happy, for all she's smiling._ The thought that had been sneaking up on him over the last few days elbowed its way to the front of his mind, and pointed out that he couldn't expect whatever he had been expecting, put a name on it if you want to, he couldn't expect her to fall in love with him. How could she know what it meant? In some ways she seemed totally naïve. _And maybe it was just because we spent time together, and I was the only man she'd talked to properly besides her brother, and she thought herself into something she didn't really feel. I've done that. A few drinks help it along. Or getting out of the house and meeting other people, for that matter. Would she like Dryden? How can I tell, anyway? _All his thoughts on the matter were uncertain and unsatisfactory; he felt wrong-footed and just plain dumb.

There was a longer pause, while the two of them tried to work out what the other was thinking, and drew unpleasant conclusions from the preoccupied expressions which were only the result of unsuccessful mind-reading. The silence deepened and deadened.

'Gawd, listen to the two of you,' Aruetta said. 'You're even worse talking than writing letters, Serena.'

'You weren't supposed to be listening!' Serena cried, spinning round to face her, which caused her to slither off the pouffe. She sat on the floor with her legs still hooked over the top of it and felt like no, she refused to feel like crying.

'Shit!' she exclaimed. 'Bugger, hell and damn.' Swearing felt much better. She looked up at Gadeth, whose face was making the transition from are-you-all-right to trying hard not to laugh. 'Balls and bullshit, while I'm at it,' she added. 'Go on, laugh at the foulmouth! Exactly how silly do I look?' Laughter was puffing up in her now, too. 'They shouldn't put me in nice princessy clothes like this, should they? I'm disgraceful!' Seeing him laugh, and knowing it was because of her, was such a comfort that she didn't want it to stop. She kicked over the pouffe and sat up properly. 'Won't you join me on the floor, sir? That's how we savages entertain guests. We can sit here and swap swear-words and, I don't know, play with matches or something. It's Bad Behaviour Day.' At this point she lost the power of speech and began to giggle helplessly.

'Stoppit,' Gadeth said, sitting down beside her and giving her a friendly shove in the shoulder, 'you're going to set me off.'

'What, giggling? Like a girly girl?' She shoved back, only to be caught and tickled.

Aruetta stared at them. They seemed to have forgotten she was there. _Very strange couple,_ she decided. _Very strange girl, certainly._ She went back to cross-stitching pansies when the tickle fight ended, predictably, in surreptitious kisses and whispers. _Childish,_ she thought with an agreeable sense of superiority. _Still, if they're having fun, it's none of my business._ Aruetta had had a lot of practise as a spy, but it was something she did out of talent and necessity, not because she especially enjoyed it. Cats didn't have to be curious just because of some old proverb. This assignment bothered her for the simple reason that she had begun to like Serena, and from what she knew of the case, it really didn't seem fair what they wanted to do to her. So, certainly, she would inform her superiors if Serena started stamping about saying 'it's a shame I didn't torch this whole city while I had the chance, that would have been great fun, also perhaps raped a few people and desecrated a church,' but if she wanted to sit on the floor and mess about in a fairly innocent way with her boyfriend, why, that was nothing to report at all.

_Lucky girl, as well as strange. She has two friends at the palace, at least._

Serena was wondering if it was normal, while being kissed (and of course while kissing back) to think so much about how it felt. _I seem to be the kind of person who analyses everything. Don't people sort of forget themselves at moments like this? But I'm very aware of myself, my breathing and how my heart is beating and hang on, where's his hand going? Good grief. Actually, I quite like that_

They broke off rather guiltily when the sound of footsteps in the next room reached them. _This is as bad as being fifteen again myself_, Gadeth thought. _What am I _**_doing_**_ getting involved with a girl this age? _

'Ssh,' Serena said. 'Who's out there?' She turned away from Gadeth to look at the door, and he realised that she was not just concerned about being caught with him; she looked really frightened. He felt a twitch of anger at that; that she should have to live in fear.

'I simply don't understand why you've done it. What possible good can it do?' said a slightly muffled voice in the next room.

'That's Allen,' Serena whispered, unnecessarily, because everyone in the room knew his voice perfectly well.

'I was under the impression that truth was innately good,' said a woman's voice.

'Millerna,' Serena supplied.

'Are you so naïve?'

'In any case, that's what's wrong with families like ours. You should know. We lie ... no, we don't lie, we create polite fictions, and we edge around things, and then people find things out that they should by rights have known all their lives and it hurts them. And you know how it hurts to know there's something you don't know, right? I'm sure he suspects something. He must. Young and stupid aren't the same thing.' Millerna spoke quietly but forcefully. The three listeners craned to hear her.

'You're projecting your feelings onto him. He's as happy as he can be, under the circumstances. He has something to take pride in, and what you're proposing will take it away.'

'Do you have such a low opinion of yourself?'

'I can't believe you want him to know. Oh, _don't_ go in there.'

The door opened, and Millerna came in. 'Guess what!' she said, a trifle too brightly to sound natural. 'A visitor is coming.'

Allen followed her, and checked slightly when he saw Serena and Gadeth. 'Why are you two sitting on the floor?' he asked, reasonably enough.

'Felt like it,' Serena said, and quickly changed tack. 'Who's coming? Do I know them?'

'I suppose you do, a little,' Millerna said. 'Prince Cid, of Freid.'

Serena's face went blank. 'Well, he won't want to see me, will he.'

'I think it's important that he meets you,' Millerna said. 'I've explained to him about you.'

'Why?' Allen put in. 'I think you've taken entirely too much upon yourself, Millerna!' He caught sight of Aruetta, who was sitting up on the window seat with eyes like saucers and ears pricked up. As soon as he looked at her, she coloured up and tried to become invisible.

'You could run along now, Aruetta,' he said, quite pleasantly. 'The Princess and I can handle everything for the moment.'

'I'm really supposed to stay,' Aruetta managed to say.

'If you send her out there's no way I'll be able to keep Serena here,' Millerna said. 'I'm managing this on sufferance, you do realise. I'm trying to help you and your family against my father's will. This is hard.'

'I didn't ask you to do it,' Allen said. This was exactly the wrong thing to say. Millerna looked as hurt as if he had struck her. Serena realised she was holding her breath. Gadeth put his hand over hers, where it rested on the floor, and gave a gentle squeeze. It wasn't very helpful, but it was something he could do.

'Which is why it's so wonderful of you to want to help and why I find it so hard to accept your generosity. I have put you through so much trouble already I don't want you to seek more out on my behalf.'

_What an amazing save,_ Gadeth thought. The princess' expression softened visibly.

'Well, it's done,' she said. 'And he'll be here soon. There are things we all need to discuss. I think it'll be easier to tell one person at a time. You could say this is a bad time because so much else is going on, but then I thought, why not get it all over with at once? And we have an opportunity right now. So go on, Allen.' She looked expectantly at him. He would not meet her gaze, but turned away and strode over to look out the window. 

'What's this about?' Serena asked, getting to her feet. 'I've been sitting here hoping to make some sense of it, but unless you tell me, Allen, I'm not going to figure it out.'

'If this is about what I think it is,' Gadeth said, 'it does seem like a good idea to tell her, Boss.'

'I didn't need that, Gadeth,' said Allen. Abruptly, he turned back to face them. 'I wish, Serena, that I could really be the way you see me. I have tried, in the little time that we have had, to give you security, and to begin to fill the gaps that exist between us. The trust I see in your eyes makes me unwilling to let you know that I could be unworthy of that trust.'

'What do you mean? You're on my side, right?'

'This isn't about you, Serena.'

'Thank God for that. It's about time something wasn't.' She sank down onto the chair Gadeth had sat in earlier. It seemed a good enough position from which to hear the worst.

'This is complicated, and has to do with the past with history that you could not be expected to know about. I don't suppose that the private lives of the royalty of other countries were of great interest to a boy growing up in Zaibach. Although I think I remember Dilandau saying something about rumours, once.' Allen lowered himself onto the window seat, causing Aruetta to hitch herself as far to the other side as she could. Serena found her very distracting to watch. She was suddenly irritated with her behaviour. _Childish,_ she thought.

'To cut a long story very short and I think I should make it clear that Princess Marlene was not to blame in this matter. I take full responsibility for what happened. And yet I didn't take responsibility, because there were others to do what had to be done, and it was easier, although none of it was easy. The worst part was, everything that made us feel better made the situation worse.' Allen was almost talking to himself.

'What was the long story you were going to cut short?' Serena asked, quite lost. But then, bits and pieces that had seemed unrelated as they lay scattered in her mind suddenly showed themselves to be connected. There were gaps, but a sudden intuition bridged them. She had no firm grounds on which to base her idea, but it seemed eminently possible.

'You had an affair with the Princess and Cid is your son!' she blurted out. Allen stared at her.

'How did you know?'

'I I thought of it just now.' _How _**_did_**_ I know?_

'If she can guess, Cid certainly can,' Millerna said. 'He doesn't know yet, Serena, and I've arranged a meeting so Allen can tell him. I think it would be nice if you were there, too. It may make Cid feel better to know he has more family than he thought.'

'Or then again it may make him feel worse to know he's a bastard with a freak for an auntie,' Serena heard her own voice say, quite cold and clipped. She felt a little distant from it. 'Not to mention his father. Well, congratulations, Allen. You cuckolded a duke, that's really quite an achievement. Hey, are you really planning to go through all the princesses like that?' Her voice kept going undirected, hard and hurtful. Allen had got up from the window seat and was walking towards her. 'What will you call _your_ baby, Millerna? I assume there will be one - don't you feel lucky? Don't you feel _special?_ And oh, the heritage Cid's got. One of his grandfathers is a fat old toad, no-one knows what happened to the other one, and ... ow!' Allen had slapped her across the face. It was not a hard slap, but rather clinical; intended to shock, not hurt. It still brought tears to her eyes.

'You're hysterical,' he said calmly. 

'No I'm not,' Serena said, a little wildly. 'I've done hysterical. Hysterical is when you go like _this_.' She screamed, long and high and piercing, until Allen smothered her mouth with his hand, which she bit.

'Damn you!' He snatched his hand back and glared at her.

_I really, really shouldn't be seeing this,_ Gadeth told himself. He looked, rather desperately, to the princess, but she looked as uncertain and as uncomfortable as he felt. Clearly, she had not realised her idea could backfire this badly. No help was likely to come from the cat girl, and Serena looked to be gearing up for another scream, and he could not think what to do.

'My w-wonderful big brother,' Serena stammered. It looked as though the scream might turn out to be a sob. 'Is it always like this? Is everything rotten underneath? I knew I was rotten inside but you seemed better than that.'

'You are not rotten,' Gadeth said, without thinking. 'Neither of you is. For God's sake, stop looking like that.'

'Did you know about this?' Serena asked, turning her tear-bright gaze on him.

'Yes, but it was told to me in confidence. I couldn't have said anything.'

'Because at least _you're_ honest,' Serena said.

'Serena's right,' Allen said to Millerna. 'What good would it do him to know he's illegitimate? He'll lose faith in himself. A king needs some pride.'

'Truth is worth more than pride,' Millerna said stubbornly. 'If you won't tell him I will. If you don't feel a duty to him as his father, I feel mine as his aunt. We can go back and forth like this for hours, so why don't you just give in?'

'Princess,' Allen said, bowing to her, 'I will not argue with you. Gadeth, come with me, please.' He stalked out of the room. Gadeth hesitated before following him.

'I'll, ah, I'll come back later, all right?' he said over his shoulder to Serena.

'I don't know what I'll do if you don't,' she said.

'I will not argue with you!' Millerna repeated indignantly. 'In other words, I'll just walk off and not solve anything. _Oooh,_ he makes me angry sometimes!' She snatched up a cushion from the sofa and drop-kicked it across the room.

'I thought you were in love?' Serena said. _If only there were some way to get away._

Millerna sighed. 'I _do_ love him. But he's been doing this more lately. Shutting off. It drives me mad. I thought everything was going to be all right with the war over and Dryden gone.'

'I really messed all that up, didn't I?' Serena murmured.

'It's not your fault,' Millerna said. 'Don't you go thinking it's your fault. He has a choice how to behave.'

'I think he's terribly unhappy,' Serena said, 'and I know it's because of what's happening with me.' She clasped her hands together and concentrated on how the fingers interlaced. 

'But you can't help it,' Millerna said soothingly, patting her shoulder.

'I can't help anything ... I can't _do_ anything, can I? I'm so jealous of you, Millerna. You're getting to do everything on your own terms and make things happen and I'm, I'm just _stuck._'

'It's not as though it's much fun,' Millerna said. 'I often wish I could go back to being protected but I see what you mean.'

'It's just such a different life to Dilandau's he was so free. Or at least he felt free. And able to do anything. It went wrong in the end but I wish I could get back that feeling.'

'You don't want to go back to being Dilandau, do you?' Millerna asked.

'Absolutely not. I just don't like being Serena very much so far. As you said, it's not much fun. There have been a few nice bits, but at the moment'

'How are you feeling now, in yourself?' Millerna enquired. 'You're comfortable? I want to know if you have any problems. Nausea, headaches, faintness those are things I can help you with, at least.'

'My body feels fine,' Serena said. 'I'm full of energy, really. I wish I could go riding, or dancing, or something even just a good long walk. Could I not go out in the garden?'

'I'm afraid not,' Millerna began, and fell silent as the door opened. Gadeth came in, looking irritable.

'You know,' he said, 'I would normally never say a word against him, but quite frankly, the Boss is being a shit.'

Millerna sighed.

'I've managed to talk him round,' Gadeth went on. 'He's just pissed off at _me_ now. So he's willing to have the Talk. He says let him break the news.'

'Why on earth is he angry with you?' Serena asked indignantly.

'Everything's getting on top of him,' Gadeth said vaguely. He thought of how Allen had stood in the anteroom once the door had closed behind them, shoulders bowed and shaking.

'It's just one damn thing after another, Gadeth,' he'd said. 'The only person I can rely on right now is you.'

It had probably not been a good idea to back Millerna up just then. He wasn't sure why he'd done it. _I think what I hope is that they'll get all this straightened out. It's got to be better once everyone knows where they stand. _Anyway, the Boss had gotten angry with him, in that very terse, clipped way that was really more serious than if he shouted. But if it got results

'This is all right with you, right?' he asked Serena. _They're both depending on me. Am I working at cross-purposes?_

'I suppose so. I want to be there too. What's the plan, Millerna?'

'Cid is arriving in the late afternoon. You, I, Allen and he will have dinner together this evening, and we'll talk everything over.' Millerna crossed the room to pick up the cushion she had kicked, and stood smoothing it rather ruefully. Serena looked at Gadeth. Her look said 'Help me' as clearly as if she had spoken the words.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

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	8. Chapter Eight

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Eight**

Serena wore her own new dress at dinner. She felt distant, still; her senses were sharp and clear, but seemed to operate at one remove. So she was aware of the orange glow of the candle flames, the shine of crystal and silver, the gentle chime of cutlery on china, the smell and taste of excellent food, but felt as though she were sitting back from it all. Cid was a fine-looking little boy, with a strong resemblance to Allen. Once he got a few years older an explanation would almost be unnecessary. He behaved with remarkable maturity, making polite, sensible conversation about the business of his duchy, describing the rebuilding work in process while sitting boosted up on two cushions. Serena watched him and said little.

'It's Boris I miss the most,' Cid said at one point. 'He could manage everything. I'm having to learn most things for myself, to get them done right.'

It was about midway through the main course that Allen, after a series of increasingly meaningful looks from Millerna, began to speak to the purpose. Serena's feeling of detachment increased, and she watched the movement of his lips with a sort of hypnotic fascination. The sound of the words and the movement of the mouth seemed to bear little relation to one another in her mind. She turned to look at Cid, who sat with a piece of meat forgotten on his fork, and listened wide-eyed, and increasingly white-faced. As Allen finished his story, a sort of tremulous smile appeared on his lips.

'You're wrong,' he said. 'My _father_ is my father. I mean, Duke Freid is my father.'

'Duke Freid always loved you as his own son,' Millerna said, reaching over the table to pat Cid's hand. 'But Allen is your father by blood. I know it isn't easy to accept at first. I was stunned when I found out.'

'No, you don't understand, that's not what I'm saying. He was my _father_. He looked after me and taught me things. He was hard on me but I always knew he loved me. That's who my father was.'

'Cid,' Allen began, but he was cut off by the boy.

'Now, you're not my father. You're an old friend of my mother's, or a knight in a story she told me, or a visitor when we were going to war that's all you've been in my life. You've got no claim on me.'

'You have a claim on me,' Allen said softly. 'And I'd hoped I was at least a friend to you, Cid.'

'I had a perfectly good father. I don't want you,' Cid said.

'Cid,' Millerna said, 'don't be rude. This is difficult for all of us.'

'I don't want you!' Cid said again, louder. 'You didn't want me, did you? I expect Mother didn't want me either. But Father loved me. I want him to be proud of me. I'm my father's son!'

Serena noticed his hands were shaking. Abruptly, he put down his knife and fork, and slid down from his chair. 'Scuse me,' he said, and ran out of the dining room. A moment later, he put his head back around the door. 'My father was twice the man you are and he didn't sneak around and he died for his country and I don't care what you say. And I don't believe it anyway and you're all big fat liars.' With that parting shot, he vanished again. The three left at the table sat in silence for a moment.

'Well,' said Serena, 'that went as well as could be expected.'

Allen put his head in his hands.

'He can't run off by himself,' Millerna said. 'Not in this state. I'll go after him.'

'Can I go?' Serena asked, a little surprised at herself. 'I think he's probably upset with both of you, but he might listen to me. I'm not involved.'

'Oh, I don't know. No. Yes. Go on,' Millerna said. Her attention was really on Allen. As Serena left the room, the princess got up and put her arm around his shoulders.

Aruetta was just outside the room, having been persuaded that it would be all right this once. Serena suspected by now that her heart was not in her job, and this was confirmed for her by the fact that the cat girl had fallen asleep in her chair, her mouth slightly open and her needlework spilling out of her lap. Very cautiously, she slipped by. The only way to go from here was down the corridor, and as she passed a door that led out onto a cloistered balcony, she heard a distinct sniff. She pushed the door open and stood for a moment breathing the cool night air. _Outdoors air. I could tuck up my skirt and go over the balcony, clamber down the wall, get out of the garden somehow _But she could see Cid, sitting with his back to a pillar. She knelt beside him. He was hugging his knees, his face buried in his folded arms, making the sort of snuffling noises you make when you are only just not sobbing.

'Do you want a handkerchief?' she asked softly. Cid raised his head and looked bleakly at her.

'I p-promised him I wasn't going to cry any more,' he said. 'I promised him right before he died.'

'I think he'd understand this once,' Serena said. She was not sure if this was the right way to talk to a child. But Cid seemed so grown up that maybe it would be all right just to speak normally.

'I've got a handkerchief, anyway,' Cid said, and brought it out and blew his nose. Serena waited for him to speak again, and was beginning to think he would not, when he said 'I suppose you want to say you're my aunt now.'

'Not if you don't want me to be,' Serena said. 'Aunts are optional. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Isn't it horrible? I bit him when he told me.'

Cid gaped. 'You _bit_ him?'

'I'm a hellcat,' Serena said lightly. 'I don't advise you to do it.' She shifted position, sat down properly with her legs crossed under her skirts. She had been surprised to learn that petticoats like this were not, in fact, fashionable; Allen seemed to have a bee in his bonnet about making her dress in a slightly old-fashioned way.

'So you don't think I should accept it?' Cid asked.

'I just think you're right to be upset about it. We all knew you would be. Allen didn't want to tell you at all, and Millerna talked him into it.'

'Of course he didn't want to. I'm his _mistake._'

'It doesn't have to reflect on you,' Serena said. 'And he didn't want to tell you because he thought you would be ashamed of him, not the other way round.' There was a little pause. Cid folded his handkerchief into halves and quarters.

'I didn't really have a father,' she said. 'Not one I knew. He went away when I was little and never came back. Some people would say you were lucky to have two.'

'I bet your father wasn't anything to be ashamed of.'

'Well, he abandoned his wife and family to pursue a dream. Allen and I have talked a little now, about what happened. I understand he had reasons and apparently he _was_ coming back to us, but he died on the way. I still don't know how I feel about the whole thing. I think he was wrong. But I also think it's a shame he didn't get a chance to make amends. Come on, haven't you heard the stories about crazy Leon Schezar? Allen's very thingy about him. I think he feels worse about being your father because of it. As though he repeated the failure.'

'If I have children, I'm not going to be like that,' Cid said firmly. 'If what they're saying is true, the Duke chose me for his son. And I'm choosing him for my father. I'm not a Schezar. No offense.'

'Oh, none taken. I hardly feel like a Schezar myself. I'm out of practise.' Serena leaned back against the pillar and put her hands behind her head.

'Is is it really true about you? That you used to be a boy?'

'Yes.'

'What did it feel like to change over?'

'I can't remember very well. I think it hurt.'

'The boy you were might have been one of the soldiers who killed my father.'

_Better level with him._ 'He was. Well, he was trying to. Allen interrupted the fight before Dilandau ... that was his name ... could finish it. In the end it was archers who killed the Duke. I want you to know that it wasn't just me with a different body. Dilandau was a whole other personality. No relation to you or Allen. I would _not_ have done what he did.' _I have to believe I would not have done it._

'Your name's Serena, right?'

'Yes, Serena.'

'Do you think everything will be this messed up? Always?'

'It's hard to tell. I think well, there was a war on, and that always unsettles things. And all our lives got caught up and involved. So maybe as the kingdoms settle down, this stuff will too. Like mud settling in water.'

'I think when I rebuild my father's duchy, I'll feel better,' Cid said. 'You should come and visit.'

'Thank you. Maybe I will, when I'm allowed to.'

'Why aren't you allowed to?'

'They're keeping me here. They want to try me for Dilandau's war crimes. Of course, I told them it wasn't me, but that didn't cut very much ice.' She smiled wryly.

'But that's unfair!' Cid exclaimed. 'You said Dilandau was different from you! Boys and girls are different anyway, girls are gentler. A girl wouldn't have done all that.'

'Want to tell your grandfather that for me?'

Cid rose to his knees and looked earnestly into Serena's face.

'Would you like to run away to Freid? I'll take you with me if you want. You can hide in one of the monasteries. We can both get away from Allen. You can be my aunt if you want. We can choose our family.'

'Cid, you know you can't. That's the whole point.' _Here I wanted to be rescued, and a little boy is offering to do it I'm so helpless and cowardly, and he's got all these problems on his plate, and he still thinks of how he could help me. And he believes what I tell him he believes in me._

'Well, I want to change the arrangement. It's stupid. If I could choose, Boris would be my grandfather, not that fat old King Aston. Families should be people who want to be together.' Cid was looking teary-eyed again. Serena realised just how small he really was. Following an impulse, and hoping it was the right one, she held out her arms to him. He half-fell forwards, and hugged her tightly.

'I like you better than Aunt Millerna,' he said, slightly muffledly, into her shoulder. 'She's on Allen's side.'

'What a pair.' _I'd have lots of children if I thought they'd be like Cid. Such a wonderful little guy. How can someone so nice come out of people being so stupid? I _**_won't_**_ let them muck him about._

Cid lifted his head, stepped back, trying to resume self-control. 'Will you be on my side?'

'I don't think it helps to have sides in this. You do have to accept that Allen is your father, because it's true. That doesn't mean it's good, and you have a right to be upset. Don't let them make you feel like you should be grateful or anything. But try to be fair to him. Your father would say so too, wouldn't he? Duke Freid, I mean.'

'I suppose so,' Cid said. 'I try to listen for him in my head, and hear what he would say about things, but I can't. Sometimes I can't remember his voice.'

Serena kissed his cheek. 'You are one of the bravest people I've ever met. I know you can manage this. All right?'

'All right.' He paused. 'I suppose I should go back in and talk to them.'

'That would be a very good idea.' Serena got to her feet. She took one last look out at the night-time garden. The air was cool and a little bit damp.

'Do you want to stay out here?' Cid asked.

'Well, it would be nice,' Serena said, surprised at his perception. 'Just for a little while. I haven't had any fresh air for a few days, and it's a beautiful night.'

'I'll go in first, then,' Cid said. 'It's the least I can do for you. If I can't give you asylum in my country, I'll give you five minutes in the fresh air.'

'Thank you from the bottom of my heart,' said Serena; she said it jokily but she meant it. She watched the little boy walk back to the door, reach up to open it and walk through. Then she turned and rested her arms on the balustrade of the cloistered balcony, and pillowed her head on them. It was so quiet out here, with only night noises like the song of crickets. The wall below her was thickly overgrown with ivy, some kind of hybrid with white leaves scattered among the glossy green, bright stars in a dark sky. She closed her eyes and just let herself breathe.

There was a sharp rustle in the ivy below her. With a gasp, she opened her eyes, and looking down, saw a dark figure climbing up towards her. Before she had time to be afraid, she recognised Gadeth. If she called out to him, someone would hear; she was on borrowed time anyway until Allen or Aruetta came looking for her. In an agony of suspense, she reached down towards him, her arm straining out until he caught her hand, and she helped pull him up. He scrambled over the balustrade and put his arms round her.

'What are you doing here?' she whispered, giving his shoulder a little slap. 'It's stupidly dangerous! But I'm _so_ glad you came.' She looked up into his face, wishing the light were better. Moonlight took the colour out of him. She supposed she must look like a ghost.

'I was just walking around in the garden wishing I could get to you when I saw you. I couldn't believe my luck. I wasn't even supposed to be down there, but I got in while the guard was changing and no-one seemed to notice me. I wanted to be somewhere near you, even if I couldn't see you.' He looked embarrassed to be saying it, but happy at the same time.

'Please,' Serena said, and put her hands on his shoulders, 'please help me get out of here. I don't care about being good for the trial. I've got to get away. I'm so afraid here, all the time, and I know dealing with it is the right thing to do but I _can't!_ I just told a boy who can't have been seven years old to accept a situation I don't want to face. I just need a break from it. You'll help me, won't you? We could get away now! I wouldn't be afraid if I was with you.'

Gadeth looked at her closely, and his face was a little grim. 'They're breaking you here, aren't they?'

'I don't think they mean to ... not Millerna and Allen ... but they are.'

'Get on my back.'

'What?'

'You'll have to ride on my back ... you can't climb down in that dress. We're lucky it's strong old growth ... I think the ivy will hold our weight together. You'll have to trust me.'

'You know I do,' Serena said, clambering up on his back.

'I won't have my arms free to support your legs ... you'll have to hang on for yourself, all right?'

'Right. Big hug, arms and legs.'

'That's a good way of looking at it.' It certainly put a more innocent wash on how he felt with her clinging to him. She was strong for a girl; she could certainly squeeze. He tried to concentrate on the climb; on getting back over the balustrade without tipping her off; on making his way down the wall slowly and carefully, feeling for the strongest vines, avoiding any that semed loose or flimsy. It was not easy, and every minute they were both convinced that someone would see them, from above or below, and they would be caught halfway.

'I can't believe we're really doing this,' Serena breathed in Gadeth's ear. 'I can't believe something is happening.' Her breath was very warm and ticklish. Gadeth closed his eyes for a moment. _Do I make her feel this way? I remember her asleep beside me when I woke in the night and felt her head on my chest..._ The ivy he was standing on ripped away from the wall, but they were only a couple of feet up now and he made the drop without hurting either of them. There was a breathless hush after the rip and the thump, and it seemed certain that someone would have heard, that there would be lights and voices and dogs and big trouble. Their miraculous luck held, though, and when they judged it was safe, they ran for the far garden wall.

'I saw a little gate back here,' Gadeth said, casting about for it. He found it behind a topiaried tree, a wicket gate in the wall.

'We are _too_ lucky tonight,' Serena breathed, when a push proved it to be unlocked.

'Do you think we'll have to pay for it later?'

'Maybe we've already paid for it, and everything will be good from now on.'

'I hope so.' They were out, unbelievably, on a crumbling footpath that ran along the edge of a silted-up canal. It didn't look as though anyone had been here recently. The water in the canal was only a trickle, and the bed of it smelt bad. It was beautiful anyway; it was _out. _

'That was so quick,' Serena said, feeling it safe to speak in a normal voice again. 'Twenty minutes ago I was with Millerna and Allen at dinner. I don't know _what's_ going to happen now.'

'That is a point,' said Gadeth, taking her hand and beginning to walk away from the palace. Distance was the main thing. Distance, and looking as though they had a perfect right to be where they were, doing what they were doing. He wasn't really dressed right to be walking with a lady in a court dress, but hopefully they wouldn't meet anyone who felt inclined to ask questions. At least he didn't have his bits and pieces of armour on, nothing to make him seem threatening. Of course, if they met people with inquiring minds he might be sorry about that.

'We have to get to a safe place, obviously. I just don't know anywhere around here. I'm pretty sure I could survive if I were dropped anywhere in the world, but it's much harder in a city.'

'Well, I don't want you to just survive,' Gadeth said. 'I want you to be comfortable. I've put you in danger bringing you out here, and I'm damned if I'm not going to look after you.'

'I've put you in danger getting you to help me,' Serena corrected him.

'And you probably don't want to be looked after, right?'

'No, I quite like being looked after. It's all right if you know you don't need it.'

'I've got it,' said Gadeth, 'I know where to go. Come on. We can get there in fifteen minutes if we're quick.'

'They've got to be looking for us by now,' Serena said as they huffed their way up a hill at the rear of the city. 'Or just me, because they wouldn't know about you.'

'They'll guess you had someone with you ... two sets of footprints. We had to walk through the flowerbed at the base of the wall, remember?'

'Of course. I keep _forgetting_ things! It's like all the things I know are leaking out.' There was a note of dismay in her voice.

'Don't get sad now ... we're nearly there.' He pulled her on, round a stand of trees, and flung out an arm. 'Look there!'

Moonlight shone on sails.

'Gliders?'

'Air boats. They'll only carry a couple of people, but they're fast. This is the Aviary ... we call them birds. And this' he led her along a row of grounded boats ' is mine. It looks like they took pretty good care of it. I had to leave it here when we all got posted out to the swamp borders.' The boat was about twenty feet long, with broad fan-like wings. Painted on the side in blue was the name 'Crash Test.' Gadeth noticed Serena looking at this dubiously.

'It _is_ meant to be a joke,' he said. 'I've never had an accident, I swear. If you don't count near misses.'

'It happens,' Serena said. Gadeth found a key in his pocket, opened the door to the cockpit and handed her in, then went round the boat loosening the guyropes that held it down against the pull of its floating rocks. It was inefficient to leave an energist heater running the whole time just to stop it drifting off. She sat down in the pilot's seat without thinking about it, and gazed out of the front window.

'The palace is all lit up,' she said. 'I think it's safe to say they've noticed I'm gone.'

'Then we'll light out of town before they get near us,' Gadeth said, and swung up into the cockpit, holding the last guyrope, loosely looped through a peg in the ground. 'Hey ... I'm supposed to sit there.'

'I ... I didn't think,' Serena began, but he shifted into the passenger seat.

'Do you know how to fly it?' he asked, a little smile on his face.

'I think I do. The navigational system isn't as advanced as what you'd have in an Oreades, but it has to work on the same principles. I mean, floating rocks are floating rocks. You steer with this yoke, right? And this dial's altitude, this one is attitude, and so on?' She bent over the control panel, quite eagerly.

'So go on and fly it. I'll be co-pilot. You need some fun, right? And this would be fun for you? Go on. Take me away from all this.'

Serena gazed at him for a moment, then beamed as she made up her mind. 'We don't have time right now, so just remind me when we're safe that I'm going to kiss you, okay? Now let go that line.'

'Roger!' said Gadeth. The rope whipped out of his hand and the bird rose in the air, almost straight up, because there was only a slight breeze.

'We want to head for the coast,' Gadeth said, 'way out to the southeast, past the river.'

'The wind's with us, then,' Serena said. 'And it'll be stronger higher up; look at the clouds.' They were moving swiftly, and getting closer. She turned the nose of the boat, just slightly, enjoying the control. Gadeth watched her; her eyes were brilliant with excitement and colour was diffusing through her pale cheeks.

'We're getting _away,_' she said, only just above her breath. She engaged the directional controls and the boat began a smooth, accelerating glide forward.

_I can only pray she's safe. I can only pray she's safe._ Allen sat on the divan that had been Serena's makeshift bed. He was forbidden to help the search parties; although Millerna had vouched for him, he was suspected of aiding in the escape. The cat girl, Aruetta, had been given her notice and had fled upstairs to pack her things before they were thrown out by the housekeeper. With his head in his hands, he covered his eyes, trying to block out the world. He felt a hand on his knee, and looked up. Cid stood there, his head on one side.

'You have to be brave,' he said.

'This is an outrage! She was supposed to be guarded! And she must have had an accomplice ... how did anyone get into the garden?'

'Dumb luck,' said another voice bitterly.

'We cannot assume that luck is a random force in the natural state. It can be directed.'

'You're suggesting other people have access to this technology?'

'We cannot tell. No-one knew of Basram's ultimate weapon until it was deployed. Who knows what else the other nations have been developing?'

'What would another nation want with her?'

'Ransom?'

The room of anonymous concerned citizens simmered with uncertainty.

'And touch down on the flat behind the beach.' Gadeth pointed.

'Here I go,' said Serena. She brought the boat around in a smooth low sweep, the energist heater hissing as the steam weakened the rocks' antigravity, and Gadeth dropped the anchor. Once it had caught in the turf he wound them down on the rope, turning a crank.

'You would not _believe_ how much fun that was,' she told him. 'A totally routine flight, just smooth going, stars above us, sea below us for part of the time, just beautiful.'

'I know, I was there too,' Gadeth said, jumping down to moor the boat to a tree. 'And I was very impressed. You're lucky to have kept those skills.'

'I can spit really well, too.'

'Don't show me that.' He took her hand and swung her down from the cockpit. She put her arms round his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

'There's something I'm supposed to remind you about.'

She kissed him on the chin.

'What, not even on the mouth?'

'But I like your chin. It's exactly the right shape.'

'For what?'

'Just being your personal chin. Are we going to stay here? Sleep in the boat?'

'No ... no, I have something planned. Nothing fancy, but it's all right.' He took her hand again.

'You just keep leading me around tonight like a little dog.'

'Can I help it if I know where we're going? And you are _not _like a little dog in any way I can think of.' He led the way over the grassy flat to where the ground dipped down to a little creek, which they crossed by a plank laid from bank to bank. On the far side was a cabin, painted pale yellow.

'This was my uncle's house,' Gadeth said. 'He was a painter who liked doing seascapes. He left it to me because well, because he was a pretty weird old guy, and we're not really sure why he did most things. It's only by chance that I left the key on my chain, but it's a good thing I did, right?' He unlocked the door and tried to push it open. It stuck.

'It's our luck again,' Serena said. 'Does it need a shove?'

'I think it's just swelled up with damp,' Gadeth said, and put his shoulder against it. Serena shoved with both hands as he pushed, and the door jerked open. 

'After you, Serena-hime.'

'I'm not walking in there, it's pitch black. At least there's a moon out here.'

Gadeth went in and almost immediately cracked his shins against a stool, which fell over noisily. He swore.

'Are you all right in there?' Serena called from the door.

'Yes, yes. I'm pretty sure there'll be matches on the mantlepiece.' He found his way to the fireplace, and groping above it found the matchbox and a candle. He got it lit and held it up.

'The place doesn't look too bad,' he observed.

'I've never seen anything like it,' Serena said.

Each wall was painted with sand, sky, white-flecked ocean waves and fizzing shore breakers. The cabin had just one large room, the fireplace on one side, a wide bed, sagging in the middle, opposite it.

'What did he do for stuff?' Serena asked.

'Well, he cooked in the fireplace. He got his water from the creek outside and there's a long-drop out the back of the house. He ate sitting on the bed. Anything he needed was in those big boxes.' Gadeth indicated three trunks along the other wall; the one opposite the door. 'He used to say he didn't want things around him, just images.'

'There are stars on the ceiling,' Serena said, in tones of wonder. 'You know, I think he's painted the wall facing the beach so it'll match up ... the view through the window is part of the picture.'

'As I said, a pretty weird old guy, but we all liked his paintings,' Gadeth said. He was laying a fire, hoping the kindling in the basket by the grate wasn't damp as well. 'There won't be anything but tinned food left, but most of his stuff is still around. I let my cousins use the cabin and the only rule is leave it as you found it ... replace what you use up.'

Serena sat down on the edge of the bed, then changed her mind and crawled into the middle of it, where she sat in the middle of a puff of skirts. She was feeling highly nervous now, not knowing what to expect. There was definitely only one bed. Of course, it might be just like the last time they'd slept in the same place. _Do I want it to be? _Escaping was exhilarating. It felt as though she was free of rules and limits now. She could do just what she wanted, so the only problem left was to determine what that was. _We can't hide forever. Sooner or later someone will find us, or we'll have to go back. I can't leave Allen and everyone not knowing what became of me. This was hopeless from the beginning. So it would be a crying shame not to enjoy myself_ Gadeth had the fire lit now, and was feeding it with small sticks. She watched his back very closely. _Is it weird to like someone's back so much? Just because it's warm and strong and broad? I feel like he's a wall, and I can stand with my back to him and hold the world at bay. I want so much for him to be there with me, whatever happens. And I know I want to do more than kiss him, but I don't know whether I _**_can._**

'That'll keep us warm,' said Gadeth. He turned and looked at her, huddled in the middle of the bed, the fire reflected in her eyes. He leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace and folded his arms, feeling strangely shy.

'Don't stand all the way over on the other side of the house,' Serena said. 'At least sit with me.' _Just look at him; let yourself think about the possibility. It was so much easier when it was just kissing; why in the world was I so confident then?_

He sat beside her, and picked at the crocheted bedspread. It was a pretty ratty thing; he thought his uncle had made it himself. Squares and flowers of different-coloured yarn. 'Are you tired?' he asked.

'Not so very.'

It was so important to know how she felt, what she was expecting, and it seemed completely impossible to ask. If he was overstepping the mark, if he was presuming too much, if he frightened or offended her, well, regressing again, he would just want to die.

Serena stirred beside him. 'I'd rather sleep with my head towards the fire ... does it matter if I move the pillows to the end of the bed?'

'No ... no, you can do anything you want.' _We may only have tonight. It might be the only chance in her life. People try to say it's not as important as spiritual love but I know I don't want to lose her without ever ... I shouldn't think about losing her._

She moved the pillows and untucked the blankets at the end of the bed.

'Get off,' she said, nudging him. 'I've got to retuck this and make it straight. I can't sleep in an untucked bed, it's my peculiarity.' 

He got off the bed. 'Let me help you with that.'

'You don't know how I want it.'

'Just say, then.'

'Tuck the ends in at the head, then.' She made her side shipshape, then stood looking at the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 'So. There's no way I can sleep in this dress, I know that right now. The question only remains, is there any point in asking you to turn your back while I take it off?'

'Sorry,' he said, hugely embarrassed, turning round. _She doesn't want to, I'm an idiot, I should sleep on the floor._

'Seeing as I can't undo the back by myself.'

'Oh.' He risked a look over his shoulder.

'Dresses like this are designed to keep women helpless, I'm telling you.' She sat back on the edge of the bed, her back towards him, very straight, a little nervous, if you could read that from just a back. After a deep breath, he crawled across the bed to her, and started to unpick the fastenings. He was trying very hard now to breathe quietly, not to pant down her neck. _I must wait for her to make some sign, to show some interest, I can't just assume_

Serena looked down at her hands, clenched together in her lap, and bit her lip. _Isn't he going to do anything? Doesn't he want to? Doesn't he realise I can't? I just can't. This is as much as I can do. Of course it's not enough. Oh God. He's taking so long. What if he's worried about what I'm like under here ... what if someone told him about the blood, if he knows how disgusting I am?_

He separated the last hook and eye, down at the small of her back, and wondered what in the world to do now. Would she want help taking the dress off? Would it bother her if he tried to help? She was shaking ... what was wrong?

Serena tried very hard not to start crying. The only result was that instead of sobbing normally she made a sort of high-pitched 'eeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuur' and choked. _I can't believe I'm crying again! I'm so pathetic. He'll think I'm insane as well as disgusting._

'Serena, what's the matter?' He dodged round her, trying to see her face, almost overbalancing. She fell back on the bed, hid her face in the cover and cried in earnest.

'I'm so sorry ... if you didn't want me to touch you - I mean ... are you all right?'

'You don't _want_ to touch me!' she wailed. 'I don't blame you. I'm a complete _freak._'

'That just isn't true ... you have no idea how much ... Serena, look at me, you don't need to be upset.' He caught her shoulders, pulled her up, tried to hold her. She twisted away and flopped over to the pillows, covering her head.

'I'm such an idiot, trying to _flirt_ with you or something,' she said bitterly. 'For all I know you were always just putting up with it so as not to hurt my feelings. Or you think it's cute but you don't take me seriously.'

'I didn't understand any of that,' he said. 'Get the pillow off your face, for goodness' sake.'

She didn't move. Her dress was gaping open at the back, a tangle of silk and lace overlaying her fair skin. It was mesmerising to him, and before thinking about it too much, he bent down and kissed her between her shoulderblades. A sudden watchful silence from under the pillow.

'Now, I would have kissed your mouth, but you're hiding it from me, so I just went for the best bit available. Come out from there and I'll kiss your mouth or your chin or whatever you choose.' She kept still. He felt a joyful glow of certainty now; he just had to get her to look up.'Or I'll just burrow up under your skirt, does that sound better?'

She slammed the pillow down and sat up. 'Are you serious? Are you really serious?'

He kissed her just as he'd said, pressing close to her, sliding his hand inside the back of her dress, down into warmth and darkness. She thought she could feel his heart beating. His tongue touched her lips, then it was in her mouth, startling in its otherness, warm and quick and alive. This was new. She did her best to respond, feeling slow and awkward. He drew back. 'Is this all right for you?'

'Of course it is ... am I doing it properly?'

'There's no official proper way ... are you enjoying it?'

'Yes, definitely.' _Please don't stop; don't decide I'm not ready. Or not good enough._

'Then you're doing it exactly right.'

'I can get the rest of the way out of my dress by myself,' she offered. _I have no idea if I'm ready but I can't let this go._

'I'd like to help, though.'

'While you take nothing off?'

'Anything you want! Name it!'

She rested her forehead on his shoulder again. Her shoulders shook again, gently.

'Well, thanks for laughing at me when I'm offering myself to you body and soul.'

'Not _at_ you. Just because life is funny, I suppose? Do you mean it about body and soul?'

He slid one side of her dress off her shoulder and down her arm, and traced his fingers back up. 'If it's an equal swap, yes.' _It is. I promise you it is. Maybe I can stop trying so hard I can just say it_

'I think I love you.'

'I think I love you, too.'

'How do we check?'

'Just keep going and see if we feel the same way after fifty years?'

'Any time you want me to stop just say so.'

'If you stop I'll give you _such_ a smack!'

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

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	9. Chapter Nine

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Nine**

_Oceans of angels  
Oceans of stars  
Down by the sea  
That's where you drown your scars_

- Courtney Love, 'Malibu.'

They woke up, somewhat blearily, late in the morning. Serena woke first, then woke Gadeth while trying to get comfortable so she could go back to sleep.

'I thought you couldn't sleep in an untucked bed.' Warm, lazy morning kisses.

'It's not my fault it's untucked. I can sleep nearly anywhere when I'm tired enough.'

'Yay, me ... I made you tired.'

'Tired and cheerful. And achey in some funny places.'

'Oh, I ache too. It's just wear and tear.'

'I don't think anything of yours got torn.'

'I didn't hurt you that much, did I? You're not going to be revengeful, are you?'

'Is revengeful a real word?'

'It's a special word you're only allowed to use if you scored last night.' He started kissing her neck, gentle nipping kisses.

'I don't know why I feel so comfortable like this.'

'Because I love you so much and you know I'll take care of you?'

'Probably. Roll over and I'll write a message on your back and you see if you can read it.'

'Um.. hewo? Are you saying I'm your hewo? Weally?'

'It's _hello._' She dug a knuckle into his shoulder.

'You're saying hello _after_ you've had me?'

'You're a twerp.' She started writing again.

'But I love you. Thank you.'

'My beloved twerp,' she said, hugging his back, her arms right round him. Sunshine was streaming in through the uncurtained window and the painted walls seemed as open as the wide world. She pressed her cheek against Gadeth's olive skin and breathed in deeply; he smelled a little like sweat, a little like her, a little like the slightly musty sheets and mainly like his own dear self. He was just a little tacky with sleep, and she thought how nice it would be to bathe or go swimming together. _He must love me. One less thing to worry about so many less things to worry about he'll stay with me and help me and we can depend on each other._

'So' he said, 'what shall we do for the rest of our lives?'

'We will have to go back.' A little of the light seemed to fade out of the room. He lifted her hand from his chest and kissed the inside of her wrist.

'I know. You don't regret any of this, do you?'

'I know it's made things worse. But it's made other things better. Allen said something about that and I see what he meant now.' She paused. 'I wonder what in the world he'll think about this?'

'I don't want to sound like I'm hiding behind a woman, but will you promise not to let him kill me?'

'He would be a complete hypocrite to go mad at us for this.'

'Yes, but'

'Yes, of course.'

He turned back towards her, kissed her, wrapped her up with his body. 'Everything will somehow be all right. Look how lucky we are.'

'It's when you start to depend on luck that it deserts you.'

'I think if you believe in luck you draw it to you.'

'What happened to not being superstitous?'

'You're my luck. I don't believe in it absolutely but you're persuading me just by being here.'

'Can we at least have a swim before we go back?'

Allen knelt before his mother's grave marker.

'I lost her again.'

A silk skirt swished beside him. Elise looked down at him.

'I keep meeting you here. You can't live among graves, Allen.' She bent and placed a posy at the foot of the marker. Straightening, she gazed out at the skyline.

'Gadeth is missing too,' Allen said. 'I suppose he must have helped her. I wonder if he realises the harm he's doing to us both?' A soft wind stirred the grass between the stones. Elise looked at his bowed golden head with something not far from pity.

'Your sister does not strike me as a foolish person,' she said. 'She must realise she cannot escape forever.'

'She escaped from me,' Allen said. 'She wanted to escape from me.'

'That air boat,' she said, distracted, 'is coming awfully close and low. I wonder if it's in trouble?'

Allen looked up. 'I think it's coming in for a landing,' he said. 'Who would try to land in a graveyard?'

'I remember when that Zaibach guymelef appeared here,' Elise said. 'I never had such a turn in my life. It was such a _wrong_ thing to see in this place. In a way, it startled me more than what happened to Serena.'

The boat came all the way down, landing in the clear space yet to be filled with Asturia's departed. Allen's eyebrows went up. 'That's' he said.

Gadeth climbed down, helping Serena after him. They had obviously seen Allen and Elise before landing, and looked at them somewhat guiltily.

'Good afternoon, Boss,' said Gadeth. 'We didn't expect to find you here.'

'So what did you come for?' Allen asked, stiffly.

'I wanted to visit Mother before going back into the city,' Serena said. She walked to the marker, placed one hand on its white marble curve. 'I just wanted to tell her I'm all right.'

'For how long?' Allen said. 'I'm staggered to think that you would do this. I'm going to take you back with me and hopefully we'll still be able to salvage this situation. I hope you don't think you're coming too,' he added, to Gadeth, who had stepped forward. 'Helping a palace prisoner escape is a serious offense.'

'In this case, it would amount to treason,' Elise put in. Allen looked at her. She shrugged. 'Millerna is interested in medicine. I'm interested in the law. I don't put it before the duties of my birth.'

'If you have somewhere to hide, I suggest you go there,' Allen said. 'I can't guarantee your safety in my house. I can only say how disappointed I am in you, Gadeth; that you would go behind my back like this. You may have thought you were doing Serena a kindness, but you have only put her in more danger.' He took Serena's arm, ready to lead her away.

'I'll see you later, then,' Serena said, forcing herself to sound casual. 'I'll be all right. You be careful.'

'I'll see you as soon as I can,' Gadeth said. Serena flashed him a warning look. 'Remember what I said.' He turned and walked back to Crash Test.

'Can I rely on your discretion?' Allen asked Elise.

'You know that,' she said.

In the carriage, bumping back into Pallas, Allen peppered Serena with questions. Where they had gone seemed to be his major concern. She told him most of the bare facts, assuring him that she had been in no danger.

'And Gadeth I have known him for years, and believe him to be a good man, but I wouldn't be human if I didn't worry about my sister. He didn't take any liberties with you, did he?'

'He behaved like a perfect gentleman the whole time we were together,' said Serena. _He said please and thank you. Very fervently._

'You look tired.'

'I think perhaps I wasn't ready for a journey like this.' Serena leaned her head against the windowpane beside her. Her skin felt stiff with salt, from swimming in the sea. She felt as though where she had been and what she had been doing were printed all over her body, but they were completely unknown to Allen; despite his honourable suspicions, he seemed to have no inkling that she and Gadeth could be in love. She had had a feeling very like this when running away with Gadeth last night; a sort of dazed disbelief that she could move between such disparate situations so quickly, so easily, and still be Serena. _Dinner table running away making love going back._ It hadn't even been twenty-four hours. Only one person in the whole world knew she was not a virgin. It didn't look as though anyone was going to guess; it clearly didn't show on the surface. The secret was so easy to keep that she wanted to tell it. _I love Gadeth and he loves me. What do you think of that?_

'I'm defending a madwoman,' Dryden declared. 'Perhaps, when I told you to be good, I should have spelled it out to you that the definition of good does not include running away in the middle of the night. Actually, upon reflection, I can see that this was all my fault. If only I had made things clear to you, you would naturally have come directly back to the dining room with the young Duke, pausing only to wake the wretched cat girl and tell her to look alive, you could have escaped. Instead of which, I was lax, I failed you, this misunderstanding naturally arose.' He looked at her over the tops of his glasses. 'In case you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic.'

'Isn't it a prisoner's duty to try to escape?' Serena said.

'That will cut about as much ice as a soap hacksaw. Now, I can try to say that you merely absented yourself to the countryside to skip about in sunlit glades and drape wreaths of daisy-chains around the necks of liquid-eyed fawns, but frankly, Serena, that's not _you_, and all this is likely to look very suspicious in court, indeed.'

'Well, what would they think I was doing?' Serena asked indignantly. 'Laying fuses to blow up the palace?'

'I don't know. I just don't know. And I have some very bad news for you, I'm afraid. In view of your tendency to escape, the date of the hearing has been brought forward. It's tomorrow. Not only is the King annoyed that you managed to skip out, he's also annoyed that he's having to hold the damn' thing earlier than he planned, and will have to preside over the ceremonies wearing an old gown because the new, specially ordered one is not yet back from the tailor's. Also, half the people he wanted to see him looking very magisterial and grave in said gown will not see him, because they are still on the road or in the air. If there's one thing you have to learn in life, dear child, it's don't annoy kings.'

Serena hardly heard the last part of this speech; it was swamped and drowned by the echoes of 'tomorrow.'

It was a very bad night's sleep, made worse by the memory of last night's sweetness. The swamp opened up under her again and this time she sank right in. _I have to face them tomorrow, everything will be decided tomorrow. I've run out of time and it's too late to do anything. When they declare me responsible for anything Dilandau's done they might as well not have the real trial; it's a foregone conclusion. I don't want to die now. I have someone to live for. Why couldn't they just have killed me straight away instead of giving me time to get attached to people? I wish I could pray._

Zaibach was officially atheist, although pockets of folk religion were still thought to be practised in comparatively backward areas. Chesta had come from one of those areas and had had the tendency to make the sign of the star when he was worried knocked out of him pretty quickly. When he got older he made fun of religious people more than anyone. Serena thought she could just about remember a prayer she'd been taught as a child, a little bedtime thing which didn't seem strong enough for the present circumstances.

'Keep me safe, keep me right,' she whispered into her pillow. 'Keep me whole within thy light. Set a saint to watch my bed, and and something, I think it ended with "head."' _Will they cut off my head? How do they do executions here? I'd rather have beheading than hanging, it must be horrible. They wouldn't still practise barbaric things like breaking on the wheel, would they? Will it be public? A fun and educational day out for families?_

She fell into a fitful sleep around ten o'clock; Millerna had made her go to bed at eight so she would be fresh in the morning. 'The best preparation for almost anything is a good night's sleep,' she'd said. Serena dreamed of suffocating dark and people turning into bad meat and faces falling off. She woke up with wet, sour sheets and a choking feeling in her throat. It was still very dark. Aruetta's advice came back to her; _think of something you like. Think of Gadeth._ But thinking about him only made her more aware of his absence, that he was not surrounding her, inside her, her love and her luck. _I was with him last night and there's just nothing left of that Allen told him to go and hide. He probably went back to the cabin. He'll be sleeping in that same bed tonight, our bed, our place, and he doesn't know the hearing is tomorrow I should have been smart, I should have realised we'd be separated. I wouldn't have let myself depend on him then. I miss him so much._

_I'm not the same person. He's part of me now. I've had a bath anything physical will have been washed away. All those little kisses a kiss doesn't leave a mark, of course. Except that one on my right breast, he got carried away there._ She put her hand to her breast and found the tender bruised spot. _That's something real. That's my secret. They would be so shocked if they knew. I'd be in trouble_

Secret affairs, she knew objectively, were dangerous. They made you very vulnerable. They could be distracting and destructive. When they were all about thirteen, Dilandau had started to wonder about Gatti and Biore. They didn't behave differently, there just seemed to be a softness between them, a relaxation of tension. Dilandau objected to this on principle. They had not been taught that homosexuality was wrong, but he tended to think of all sexuality as a kind of weakness. There were definite bans on masturbation; they called it self-abuse. Why would you let anyone else abuse you? Why would you want it? You'd have to be sick or stupid. Doing it to someone else, of course, could give you power, and that might be good, but you would still be giving something of yourself away.

One night he had woken up at an unusual time, vaguely aware of a confusing dream, something about gold threads or golden hair. From the far end of the dormitory he could hear breathing that was trying very hard to be quiet, and movement under covers. Dilandau was far better at being silent than they were. He slipped out of bed and made his way toward the sounds. They were completely unaware of him, and he could see them kissing. Biore must have slipped into Gatti's bed after lights out; they must have waited up until everyone else was asleep. They couldn't see him; he hovered by the bed like an invisible angel, and felt his virtue and power glowing inside him. He waited for the glow to spread all the way to his fingertips before he hauled off the covers and exposed them, tangled together, hands in each other's pajama bottoms. This struck him as particularly bizarre; as though they thought the act of self-abuse was for sharing. _I am _**_very_**_ good_, he thought. He was even kind to them, in a way, because he did not tell. This was clearly a leadership situation, and he was determined to deal with it as the leader.

'Don't _ever_ let me catch you practising these perversions again. You don't touch each other. You don't look directly at each other if I say so. You sure as hell don't touch yourselves. We're Dragonslayers. We have to be _pure._ If you can't be pure like me, I'll have to tell someone. It would be my duty. I'm giving you a chance. Don't waste it.'

They had agreed to everything, terrified and ashamed. Of course they were ashamed of their sins. Dilandau had said nothing more about it, but he had certainly not forgotten it. Sometimes when he thought they needed pulling back into line he'd just give them a certain significant look and they would knuckle under. And they were so grateful to him for not telling. No-one but Dilandau-sama knew that they weren't as good as the other boys. He was keeping their secret, protecting them. Had they but known it, Dilandau had every one of the Dragonslayers in his pocket in some way. He had confiscated Chesta's chain of stars when he found it under his pillow. He knew Migel had taken the cooking sherry from the kitchens. Everyone had some shame or sin that Dilandau was keeping quiet for him, and only he was exultantly free from any defect that could be used against him.

He felt particularly glad to be free of sex, that nasty time-waster. All right, necessary and natural, but beneath him. Frustration might keep the others awake at night but Dilandau slept the sleep of the just. The thrills of battle just weren't the same thing; surely they weren't, because they were _his_ feelings and they were good. Some day they would want to breed from him, but hopefully he could get that over with pretty quickly and return to something interesting. Physical arousal in the cockpit didn't mean anything; it was just the result of excitement, strong virile spirits. An orgasm could be dismissed as the surge of power and satisfaction a warrior should feel at defeating his enemy. Besides, he was clean; his feelings were all inside, without the outer messiness he knew the others had to deal with. Why that should be was a mystery, but why question such good fortune? Destiny had made him perfect and beautiful. Some of the others referred to their Oreades as 'she,' anthropomorphised them as though they were women. Dilandau wouldn't think of it like that. The machine was part of him, not another person. It was the physical manifestation of his power, too much to be contained by his own body.

Besides, as the Human Biology teacher had droned at them, normal sexual activity was the result of the gravity of love between men and women. What brought on the battle rush was hate, clear, strong, hot hate, that showed him what do to and who to do it to. That was a different gravity. He was free of the weaknesses of men and women and had only the strengths.

Serena, turning over these memories, was baffled and a little disgusted. She had not realised there was so much distance between her and Dilandau now, but when she thought about it, she realised she had not been dwelling on his memories for several days now; she had been immersed in her own world and his had become less relevant. What was more, she could remember talking about precisely these things with Allen on her first day home, but she had remembered them wrong; she'd remembered and repeated the biology teacher's drilling that sex was natural and necessary, but hadn't recalled Dilandau's real feelings about it; and yet a couple of times that day, she had said 'I' when talking about something Dilandau had done. Before she had started making a conscious effort to separate them in her mind Dilandau's battle rush was not the same as what she had felt with Gadeth; he was exactly right about that, but she couldn't help feeling that it had come from the same source, before being sublimated and twisted into something Dilandau could use. If they had gotten to the stage of breeding from him, they would probably have had to use some sort of artificial means; she couldn't imagine him even getting near a woman, let alone doing anything Gadeth had done.

_I wonder if I'm always going to be obsessed with sex now? What a way to go. Maybe I'm not so much obsessed with sex as obsessed with everything bodily. Parts of this really are bodily memory perhaps that's why it wasn't clear in my mind on the first day. I still don't know. Why wouldn't I remember that properly until now?_

Looking back on poor Biore and Gatti now, she could only feel sorry for them; seeking the only love and comfort that was available in their world. The first experimentation must have been so wonderful to them, even if it was furtive and guilty. They were exactly as guilty as she and Gadeth were. It could only get her into trouble. But it was her sweetest memory, the one most wholly her own, and nothing could make her regret or disown it. It beat the hell out of a good fight, after all.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	10. Chapter Ten

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Ten**

'All rise for Justice Keller!'

A short, worried-looking man entered the courtroom, flanked by two bailiffs. There was a general murmur and clatter as various officials, spectators and the people whose lives and happiness were at stake got to their feet. The royal party, on a high dais, remained seated. They were very splendid in regalia. They even had Cid up there, looking confused and cross.

'Stand up straight,' Dryden murmured to Serena. He was the only person who was allowed to sit with her, and she was a little in awe of him because he was dressed in a lawyer's black robes, clean-shaven and with his hair bound in a neat queue at the back of his neck, not near the top of his head.

'I always do,' she muttered back. She followed Justice Keller with her eyes as he walked to the tiered desk at which he would sit. It seemed bizarre that such a little man should have the power or life or death over her, depending on his decision. She felt light-headed and unreal today. She had been woken early, got dressed in a half-dream, without noticing new clothes had been laid out for her, new clothes of her own, then eaten a hearty breakfast and thrown it up again ten minutes later.

Justice Keller sat down and began fussing with a fat folder of papers. Everyone else sat down and started talking. A herald on the royal dais stood up; everyone else shut up.

'Your attention for his majesty the King,' said the herald. Down he sat; up King Aston stood.

'My people,' he said, liked the sound of it, gazed round at all of them benignly and said it again. 'My people, we are here today in order that justice may be done; that reparation may be made for unspeakable wrong. We are here to restore order and good governance to our part of the world; to see to it that Asturia sleeps soundly at night once more.'

'Is anyone going to believe I'm that bad?' Serena asked Dryden.

'Hope not,' he said. 'Ssh now.'

'Not only Asturia has suffered in the recent troubles,' King Aston went on. 'We recognise our brother of Fanelia, who has come to bear witness in this matter.' He waved graciously towards a seat at the end of the dais, which Serena had not noticed before because it was almost behind a curtain. The occupant stood up; a slight, dark-haired youth in what looked like ceremonial armour. It was too big for him; his thin neck looked fragile coming out of the great metal shoulders of it. He did not look scrawny or foolish, though. It was something about how he held himself.

Serena found she had stopped breathing, and had to consciously make herself start again. 'That's Van Fanel!' she hissed to Dryden.

'It doesn't look good if we keep whispering,' he replied, hardly moving his lips. 

'I didn't know _he_ was going to be here!'

'I'm a little surprised he came. It's not as though he isn't busy at home.'

King Aston kept his hand extended towards Van as though he expected him to say something in return, but after a moment, when nothing was forthcoming, dropped it and continued as though he had merely paused for effect.

'As we face and conquer the demons of our past,' he said, 'we make ourselves ready for a bright and glorious future.'

The speech chugged on. Serena tried to look at Van without being too obvious about it. Seeing him had given her a jolt unpleasantly like guilt. Dilandau had hated Van so intensely that he began to look forward to seeing him, just for the pleasure of trying to hurt him. It had been a true obsession. He hadn't even known Van when he had burned his kingdom. Not long afterward Van's sword had slashed his face and there had been no going back. It was so personal; it was a passion. _My God,_ Serena thought. _It's lucky they were never in a room alone._ She realised she was touching her face, running a finger along the line where the scar had been. For a moment she could almost feel it again; the thickened tissue; the strange looseness at the corner of the eye where there had been nerve damage. _I don't hate him. I don't want to hurt him. But oh, he must hate me. He and Allen nearly killed each other. Two kings against me_

He was such a thin boy; his arms and legs, she remembered, were like sticks, but there was wiry muscle in there too. He had taken off his helmet, sat now with his head turned listening to something Millerna was saying. The shape of the back of his neck, for some reason, almost brought tears to her eyes. _So damn' vulnerable._ He was about her own age, she knew, but shorter; most of his growth seemed to have gone into eyes and hair. _Maybe Millerna is putting in a good word for me. Explaining to him. Would she do that, up there? How much authority does he have in the case?_

Van turned his head again, looked directly down towards her and Dryden. _Why am I reacting like this? I feel as though I'm pinned to a board. I don't even have any real feelings about this person, do I?_

King Aston brought his speech to a close and sat down to polite applause. Justice Keller cleared his throat and shuffled his papers.

'Who represents the individual known as Serena Schezar?' he asked. He had a very slight lisp; it just added a sort of whistle to his sibilants.

'I do, my lord,' said Dryden, getting up and bowing.

'Who represents the Crown?'

'I do, my lord,' said a pale, heavy-browed woman on the opposite side of the court. Dryden said to Serena, again without moving his lips, 'She was in my year. Kept spelling "plaintiff" wrong.'

_It's nice of him to try to make me feel better._

'Please present your opening arguments,' said Justice Keller, his eyes fixed on his papers.

_Pay attention! This is about my life!_

'Our argument is simple and self-evident, my lord,' said Eyebrows. 'That Serena Schezar and Dilandau Albatou are identical, and that Serena Schezar must and shall stand trial for war crimes committed under her previous identity. We aim to prove this beyond doubt, in the service of justice and the protection of Asturia.' She smiled once round the courtroom, switched it off and sat down.

Justice Keller jerked his head toward Dryden, who cleared his throat before beginning. He had done something to his voice; always deep, it now had a sort of dark-brown burr to it. It was resonant and mellifluous. It oozed sincerity without sounding oozy.

'Taking the contrary position, my lord, I aim to prove to the satisfaction of all present that the identity 'Dilandau Albatou' was an unnatural creation of science gone awry, that Serena Schezar is a separate personality, and that the young woman here present is innocent of wrongdoing. Indeed, she cannot even rightly be said to have participated in the war. Submitting her to the strain of a trial, or punishing her, would be not only pointless but unjust and cruel, unworthy of Asturia.' He bowed his head and resumed his seat.

'The Crown may call its first witnesses,' Justice Keller said, turning over a page. 'I wish to remind the advocates that emotive terms like "cruel" are inappropriate in this courtroom; we are concerned only with the question of whether a trial is viable. I also take a dim view of leading terms like "self-evident." If the case were self-evident a hearing would not be required. Proceed.'

_Well, I suppose if he doesn't like either of them it's better than if he just didn't like Dryden_

'The Crown calls Van Slanzar de Fanel,' said Eyebrows. An interested murmur ran around among the spectators. Van left his helmet on his seat and made his way to the witness stand. He looked very old-fashioned; _mediaeval,_ Serena remembered. He was sworn in and stood waiting to be questioned.

'Your Majesty, please describe, in your own words, the invasion of your country on the day of your inauguration.' Eyebrows stood back, and Van began to speak.

It was a story of horror and confusion. When he came to the death of the old knight Balgus, he stopped for a moment and blinked hard before continuing. It was not a studied performance; he simply told the story. Serena wanted to sink down in her chair till no-one could see her. It was awful. The people responsible _should_ be punished. Most of them, of course, were dead. Many of them Van had killed himself. A memory of Dilandau's came back to her, how like a demon he had been, and she felt a cold wetness growing under her arms, while her hands pinched at each other under the table.

When Van described how he, Kanzaki Hitomi and Escaflowne had been transported to the swamp borderlands by a column of light, Justice Keller lifted his head and looked at him over the rims of his glasses.

'Can this claim be substantiated?' he asked.

'There are reliable witnesses to similar occurrences in the presence of the girl Kanzaki Hitomi,' Eyebrows said.

'Rather a pity that no-one can produce the girl Kanzaki Hitomi,' he said. 'In any case, how is this testimony to the purpose, Crown Counsel?'

'Our intention is to expose the magnitude of the crimes of Dilandau Albatou,' Eyebrows said.

'I'm aware of the magnitude of the crimes of Dilandau Albatou,' Justice Keller said. 'I have detailed and well-corroborated reports of them here in this folder in front of me, which I assure you I have examined thoroughly prior to this hearing. In fact, he burned several downtown buildings belonging to me. Further testimony on this point is redundant, since we are not attempting to determine whether Albatou was a war criminal, merely whether Serena Schezar can be held responsible for his crimes. I had hoped not to have to reiterate this many times.'

_Grumpy judge._

'May I continue to examine the witness, my lord?'

'As long as it's relevant.' The judge went back to looking at his papers.

Eyebrows turned back to Van, who was looking mildly annoyed. 'Your Majesty, had you much personal contact with Dilandau Albatou?'

'Not many conversations. I fought him on several occasions. But the judge said'

'Were you present on the day of the Battle of All Nations?'

'Yes.'

'Had you a clear and unobstructed view of the battle?'

'As much as anyone did. I was in Escaflowne, but there's pretty good visibility from the control chamber.'

'Were you near Sir Allen Schezar or his guymelef Scherazade?'

'Yes. I was fighting with him.' Van looked ashamed.

'Please clarify, were you fighting with him as a partner, or with him as your opponent?'

'As my opponent.'

'Was Dilandau Albatou in the vicinity at the time?'

'Yes, in his Oreades.'

'How did you know it was him?'

'No-one else had a red Oreades.'

'Did Sir Allen speak to you about Albatou?'

'Yes.'

'What did he say?'

'He said "Dilandau is my sister." He was asking me not to fight him. He'd found out that the sorcerors of Zaibach had turned his missing sister Serena into Dilandau.'

The murmur did its thing again. 'Don't worry,' Dryden murmured. 'That could work for us.'

'He said "Dilandau is my sister,"' Eyebrows repeated. 'They were the same person.'

'I don't think that's what he meant,' Van said. 'Serena had been turned into Dilandau. When she turned back into herself she stopped fighting.'

'When Zaibach was on the verge of total defeat, Dilandau resumed the form of Serena Schezar and ran to Sir Allen for protection?'

'That's ... well, that's one way of saying it. But you're making it sound calculated.'

'Were you privy to the thought process leading to this action?'

'Of course not. But it didn't seem that way to me.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty. I have no further questions at this time.'

Van did not leave the stand, although Eyebrows seemed to have dismissed him. 'Look, I haven't told you everything,' he said.

'Thank you, Your Majesty. You may return to your seat,' said Justice Keller. Van looked mutinous, but went. Serena watched him all the way back to his seat. If he had come hoping for justice, he seemed disappointed. He looked down at her again, and seemed puzzled. She remembered she was looking at him, and hastily looked away.

_It's almost like well, I _**_don't_**_ feel attracted to him. He just seems to have a power over me. I know who I love. Some old obsession of Dilandau's does not change how I feel._

Eyebrows turned to the judge and said 'In view of your earlier comments, my lord, I would like to proceed to an examination of forensic evidence.'

'Please elaborate on that statement.' Justice Keller still seemed more absorbed in his papers than in the conversation.

'We have reliable testimony that Dilandau Albatou and Serena Schezar were seen in the same place at almost the same time. This strongly suggests identity. The Crown calls for a physical examination to support this view.'

'Objection!' cried Dryden. 'My learned friend is surely not suggesting that Serena Schezar is a man in woman's clothing. When I cross-examine his majesty, and other witnesses of whom my learned friend appears not to be aware, they will testify that Albatou and Serena were not physically the same.'

'In that case, an examination can only serve to further your case,' Justice Keller said. 'By whom is this examination to be performed?'

'I request Princess Millerna Sara Aston, an experienced physician with a thorough knowledge of this case,' Dryden said before Eyebrows could speak.

'Given that my learned friend is the Princess' estranged husband, and that the Princess is known to have given considerable aid to Serena Schezar since she was taken into custody, I would suggest that his nomination is not entirely impartial,' said Eyebrows, and gave Dryden a dirty look.

'Noted. Who do you suggest instead?'

'A committee of ladies of the court, women of irreproachable reputation and sound education. Here are the names of those who have volunteered.' Eyebrows put a slip of paper on the judge's desk. He picked it up and looked it over.

'I'll allow it. The examination will be carried out as soon as possible; I call a recess of court until the committee's report is ready.'

The judge took off his spectacles; everyone started to talk again. Serena noticed Van speaking to Millerna in an agitated manner; Millerna was glaring at the Crown Counsel.

'I am _not _going to be pawed over by those old cats; I've met some of them,' she said.

'We're going to co-operate,' Dryden said. 'You've got nothing to hide, after all. Nothing to be afraid of! Keller's right, this can help our case. I can show when I cross-examine Van that that wasn't the whole story, and your brother tells me he and Princess Elise witnessed you, in broad daylight, change into Albatou; that it was involuntary and there was a change in personality. Right? So don't worry. Grin and bear it.'

'But it's humiliating,' Serena protested.

'Well, which would you rather be, humiliated or dead?'

A bailiff presented himself at Serena's side, ready to lead her away.

It was a big bathroom, really, but the white tile had clearly suggested an operating theatre to someone, and they had tried to make it look as official as possible. There was a table spread with a disinfected white cloth; there were little boxes with rubber gloves. The bathtub against the wall spoiled the effect a bit. Serena stood before a line-up of well-dressed, middle-aged women. Front and centre was Lady Kerell.

'You will undress,' she said. Serena looked around for a screen or partition. 'Here,' added Lady Kerell.

_Nothing to hide, nothing to be afraid of. Of course they'll look at me, it's an examination. To hell with them. I can handle this, it's just my body. My good old body which I've never been able to depend on._

Her new clothes were sober and smart, a plum-coloured dress with the usual white vandyke collar. Fortunately, the dress undid down the front; she could manage by herself. Shoes, stockings, petticoat, pants, camisole, stupid brassière. She was down to her skin now and the bathroom was cold.

'You will lie on the table for the examination.' Lady Kerell was pulling on rubber gloves; they all were. _Playing doctor. I bet they feel so important. _Serena climbed on the table and lay stiffly on her back, ankles crossed and arms folded over her chest.

'Arms at your sides.' One woman had a clipboard and a pencil. 'The subject is externally female,' Lady Kerell told her, and she took it down dutifully. 'Bruise on right breast, otherwise sound.' _The subject. That's me. Externally female ... now that sounds special._ It really helped to think sarcastic thoughts.

'Do you menstruate?'

'I have, once, since returning to normal.' Lady Kerell looked very dubious about the 'normal.' 'I haven't had time for a second cycle. We were surprised the first one came on so soon.' _Bodies, bodies, bodies, it's all bodies I'm safe in my mind_

'Legs apart.'

'Oh, come on. You can see I'm a girl. Look at the bone structure ... hips.'

'Legs apart.'

Serena submitted very reluctantly. This was really sick. A medical examination was one thing, but it was the power Lady Kerell was concerned with, the power to pin her down as a specimen and find her faulty, guilty. She was reaching a level of embarrassment where it was difficult not to cry, and closed her eyes as insurance. They snapped open again when she felt a hand where no hand had a right to be without permission.

'Stop that!'

'Subject is internally normal,' Lady Kerell said. She moved her fingers; it hurt. It wasn't just that the area was still tender; fear and loathing had made Serena's muscles tense and tight and her body was extremely unhappy at the intrusion. 'Subject is not virgo intacta.'

'Is that even a medical phrase? Do you do this to a lot of people, you dirty old bitch?' She saw to her horror that the clipboard woman was writing it down. 'Hey! You have no right to put that down, it's private! This isn't about that!'

'The information may be relevant. We have a duty to provide a full and complete report.' Lady Kerell was stripping off her gloves now, looking well pleased. Serena sat up. She felt shamed and hurt and sick. No-one should have done that to her. It was worse than when her own body let her down, it was an invasion from outside.

'It's private,' she repeated angrily, uselessly. Lady Kerell just smiled. 'Look, you ... look, I'll' Inspiration struck. She slid down from the table, stood up straight. She still wanted to cover her chest, but that could look defensive. She was attacking. 'You seem like a woman who knows things. I expect you know something about Princess Marlene?'

Lady Kerell looked at her coldly. 'I attended her highness when she first went to live in Freid. I attended the birth of her son. My experience of midwifery and female anatomy is why I volunteered for this duty.'

'You _know_,' Serena said, and she tried to do the special significant look, the Dilandau look that reminded people of what they wanted to forget. She wasn't sure it quite came off right. 'I think a few people know, don't they? A select circle. But it's not public knowledge. It would be too embarrassing. You don't want to admit messy things like that happen. I could make it public knowledge. Even if I go down. People always like to hear dramatic last words from a gallows, and I have a carrying voice.' _Go down? What _**_do_**_ I sound like? But is it working?_ The side of Lady Kerell's mouth twitched.

'So you respect my privacy, and I'll respect the poor late princess's. You just have your woman there rewrite the report, and leave out your prissy little virgo intacta.'

'A murderer and a lunatic as a man; a harlot and a blackmailer as a woman,' Lady Kerell said. 'I cannot say I am at all surprised.'

'I've got no problem with what you say about Dilandau, and I really don't care what you say about me to my face. But I'm not going to have you stand up and embarrass me and people I care about.'

'Embarrass people you care about?' Lady Kerell spat. She put her face very close to Serena's. 'Yet you would betray your brother to lifelong shame; you make a threat about it merely to save your own worthless name. I despise you the more for it. Put your clothes on.' She reached for the clipboard and tore off the top sheet; crumpled it and threw it at Serena. She caught it one-handed and stared her out. The court ladies left in a body.

When the door had shut behind the last of them, Serena very carefully sat down on the floor. The tiles were horribly cold but she needed to sit. She looked at the report sheet, then carefully tore it into strips and posted them through a drainage grate in the floor.

'It's a good thing you didn't call my bluff.'

Dryden looked up from his writing, in the small office behind the courtroom he had been allocated for preparation, as a bailiff brought Serena in. She looked sulky and pale. The bailiff left them and she sank down in the chair facing his desk.

'You look upset. Did something go wrong?'

'It was _awful._ They were all looking at me ... looking at me the wrong way, I mean. I wouldn't have minded any of it if it had been Millerna, she would just have been medical about it. They didn't even warn me when they were going to ... well, I just think that old cow should have said something before getting stuck up me to the elbow.' She was exaggerating, of course, but it relieved her feelings.

'I thought there might be an internal exam, but I didn't realise it would be so distressing for you,' he said, looking at her with concern.

'They were all enjoying it, like this was part of punishing me already.'

'We can make a complaint, of course, but I don't know how far it will get under the circumstances. They'll all back each other up, naturally, so it's your word against theirs. The worst part is they can even say they were being kind of you ... instead of subjecting you to examination by a male doctor, for example.'

Serena found she had nothing to say. She couldn't even cry properly; a couple of tears leaked out, but she felt numb on the outside, unconnected to her indignation and uproar inside.

'Please don't cry,' Dryden said, coming round the desk, putting his arm round her shoulders. 'My clients have nothing to cry about, I promise you. You know, I once got a complete murderer off scot-free. The clinching evidence that he'd done it only came to light a couple of weeks after a verdict had been reached. Of course, I felt horrible, in fact that was why I gave up law, but I still got him off! Imagine what I can do for you, who haven't done anything.' He added the other arm and patted her back. Serena gave up and leaned against him. He had an odd smell like beeswax, mixed with tobacco. She saw from the tail of her eye that he was looking down at her fondly. _Oh, for God's sake, don't say this is what men like, weakness and tears. He doesn't like me like that, does he? Isn't it unprofessional? Isn't he still sort of in love with Millerna? If he does, how do I get rid of him nicely? I don't want anyone but Gadeth to feel that way. Is it disloyal to him to accept comfort from anyone else?_ In any case, she didn't want to go on leaning on him. She wiped her face on her sleeve and sat up properly.

'All right now?'

'Better.' _It's just kindness, it has to be. I'm not even sure why Gadeth likes me; there can't be anything that would attract Dryden._

'Good!' He returned to his seat with a comfortable alacrity that rather startled Serena; obviously it _had _just been kindness, and professional kindness at that. She felt vaguely slighted, even while relieved. 'Now, when we get back in there and we've gotten through the ladies' report, I'm going to call Princess Elise. She's our ace in the hole ... an irreproachable witness who's seen you change and who knows you're not the same.'

The court ladies' report was received with slight disappointment by the spectators and impassivity by Justice Keller. Probably everyone had been hoping to hear about a hidden extra limb, or hermaphroditism, or something. In Asturian courts, testimony alternated, two by two, between the prosecution and the defense. It was held to be fairer, and also less boring. When Lady Kerell and the Crown Counsel were both back in their seats, Dryden rose.

'I call Princess Elise Aria Aston,' he said. Murmur, murmur. Serena was beginning to wish she had earplugs. The sad, pale princess rose from her seat on the dais and approached the witness stand. Sworn in, she stood with her head bowed for a minute, then raised it and looked gravely at Dryden, who smiled encouragingly.

'Am I correct in my belief that you were in the company of Sir Allen Schezar on the day when he brought his sister, who had recently and mysteriously reappeared, to the Pallas cemetery to visit their mother's grave?'

'Yes.'

'Can you see the same girl in this courtroom today?'

'Yes. She's sitting beside you in the purple dress.'

'Can you describe for us her behaviour?'

'She seemed very distant. Allen said she had completely lost her memory ... she had found her way home, but did not seem capable of speech. He behaviour was somewhat childlike; she had to be supervised. There did not seem to be anything wrong with her physically. I saw her catch a butterfly with one hand. She crushed it and watched the fragments blow away.' Murmur, murmur.

'Er, yes,' said Dryden. 'Childish behaviour; loss of memory, inability to distinguish right from wrong. Would that be a good summary?'

'It was a very deliberate action,' said Elise. 'I did not have a clear view of her face, but I thought she was smiling. I was struck by the thoughtless cruelty of it.' Murmur, murmur.

'What happened then?'

'While Allen and I were talking, she resumed the form of Dilandau Albatou. She got physically bigger ... the shirt she was wearing was not so loose. Allen was disturbed by this and called her name; she replied 'Who's Serena?' Then she called a name; I think it was 'Juka.' A Zaibach guymelef decloaked in front of us. It had been hiding in the cemetery the whole time, waiting for her. She ran to it and they disappeared together.'

'Your testimony sounds a little confused to me, Your Highness,' Dryden said. 'You say that Serena turned into Dilandau Albatou. Why do you continue to refer to "she" when Albatou was male?'

'She resumed the form of Dilandau Albatou,' Elise repeated. The spectators were getting excited, and even Justice Keller was watching what was going on as well as listening.

'Yes, but that is not the same person.' Dryden was beginning to sweat.

'I only saw one person,' Elise said. 'If Serena had disappeared and Dilandau had materialised, I would say I had seen two.'

'But would you not say that the physical change was accompanied by a change in personality? That Dilandau did not seem aware of being Serena? Hence his question to you.'

'I cannot say that,' the princess said calmly. The murmur rose to a gabble. Serena felt as though a hand was twisting her heart. She could not breathe. She turned to find Allen, to see how he was reacting to this treachery. Lady Kerell was beside him, whispering to him. _Oh shit._ She began to look around for ways to escape; it was impossible, but she could not bear this any more.

'Order, please, order,' said Justice Keller. 'Don't make me ring the bell.'

_Is she under her father's thumb? I thought she was on our side! She said Allen could count on her discretion! Why would she do this?_

'I interpreted "Who's Serena?" as a mocking reference to how she had fooled us,' Elise was saying.

'You can't say that!' Allen burst out, leaping to his feet. Everyone sitting around him turned to stare. It was getting good now.

'Sit down and shut up or I'll have you removed,' said Justice Keller.

'I believe it can be proved that Dilandau Albatou was disguised as Serena Schezar,' Elise said. She just kept talking; even above the chatter that kept breaking out she could be clearly heard. 'I believe that this transformation was unstable and that the Guymelef was waiting to remove him from the situation should it fail, as it did. I believe that the disguise was assumed to allow him to spy on us. I believe that we are not safe as long as he remains disguised among us. I believe he can be exposed and the transformation reversed.'

'Impossible,' Dryden snapped. 'You're telling half the truth, based on a partial understanding of what happened. Serena Schezar was turned into Dilandau Albatou as a young child. Under the unusual strains of the war the transformation, which I believe the sorcerors of Zaibach termed a fate alteration, failed, causing her to revert to her true form. What you saw was the restoration of the disguise, involuntary on Serena's part.'

'Only you are saying so,' said Elise.

'I'm saying so too!' Allen shouted.

'Shut up,' Justice Keller said. 'If you have a statement to make it can be taken if Mr Fassa calls you as a witness. Otherwise, hold your tongue.'

'We will prove it here in this courtroom,' Elise said.

'That's enough, Elise,' King Aston interrupted. 'It isn't time for that.' He got to his feet but had to sit down again quickly; he was not strong and standing for his speech earlier seemed to hae exhausted him.

'We have to do it now!' she snapped back. 'It's going to be too late soon! I've kept putting them off for you but they're right, soon induced change will be impossible!'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Dryden bellowed. Serena wondered how far she could get, running, when everyone was distracted. She rather thought the courtroom doors were locked.

'Sit down, Elise, you don't know what you are talking about,' the King said sternly. 'She's clearly hysterical.'

'Don't dismiss me like that! I've done _everything_ for you! You always want to play both sides and see how it turns out, but you can't do that now! Do you really think Basram are just going to go back to how things were, that they're not going to try to dominate us? We need weapons! We need power they don't have! The only greater power is fate. We have Zaibach's most lethal warrior. We can make him fight for us. We can make more like him! If he dies, we can remake him ... we have the technology! We don't _have_ to see how things turn out. _We can change fate!_' Elise was truly agitated now. She gripped the edge of the witness box with white-knuckled hands and screamed at her father. 'Don't take this away from me!'

'Clear the court, clear the court,' Justice Keller shouted. 'I'm holding you, you and you in contempt. Clear the court!' He grabbed a bell that stood on his desk and clanged it vigorously. The spectators broke into a roar.

'Bugger this,' Dryden said. He grabbed Serena's hand. 'Let's just get out of here. I don't know what's going on any more.' They made a run for it, jostling through the audience, past the startled bailiffs who were hauling the heavy doors open to let out the crowd. Corridors flashed by; Serena could only think of running, running away. That was the great thing. _To_ did not bear thinking about at the moment. There was a door that opened on sunlight; they were running, running out onto the Plaza of Justice. Bailiffs followed them; spectators, officials, Allen, Van, Cid, Millerna, Elise. King Aston had been left behind, gasping in his throne.

_Give me a sword, I can fight them, give me a sword. You're first, Lady Bloody Kerell._ Serena was going faster than Dryden now, dragging him. She made it to the statue of Winged Justice in the centre of the plaza, dropped Dryden's hand, scrambled up the plinth, stood with her back to Justice, ready for them all. _I wish it was Gadeth behind me. Oh God - no._

There was pain in her joints. Her legs buckled and she almost slid off the plinth. Cold sweat under her arms, down her back, in her hair. It was springing out in beads. Nausea, her mouth filling with sour spit, stomach convulsing. She looked out at the crowd, dizzily. Dryden was panting at the foot of the statue; Allen stood just behind him, staring up at her, seeming afraid to go further. His ambivalence hurt her more than anything. Elise stepped forward, smiling all over her face. She had a beauty right now that no-one present had seen before; it was always hidden, always restrained. Now a high colour was in her cheeks and her eyes flashed fire. 'We can change fate!' she proclaimed.

'Change fate!' Her words echoed back from other throats. On the far side of the plaza, the air rippled and split as a Stealth Manteau parted. It had been draped over something, like a tarpaulin. Black-cloaked figures stepped out of its shadow, dragging it forward, uncovering machinery, shining tubes of glass and matt black metal.

Serena felt as though her skin was splitting.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	11. Chapter Eleven

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Eleven**

There was a sort of communal gasp from the crowd from the courtroom, and several screams. Serena saw Millerna throw her arms around Cid protectively; Allen saw too, and seemed further torn about whether to go to them or stay where he was. Van drew his sword, his armour clanking, and stood ready. Serena watched them all with a strange sense of detachment. _I'm going out of their world again. Oh, it's bad this time._ The sorcerors moved around their machinery like tall thin inkblots; she could hear steam, and liquid pouring. It must be a scaled-down version of the kind of devices they'd had in the capital; enough to work on one person, one who was already weakened.

'Our allies, the surviving sorcerors of Zaibach, will show you!' Elise cried. 'You can see her change!'

Serena felt popping inside her head; she suspected terrible things were happening to her inner ears, and a swirling loss of balance confirmed it. She grabbed Justice round the waist, but her grip was greased by sweat and she slid down the plinth, scrabbling and twitching. The worst pain she'd ever felt seized her; it was Dilandau's Alseides nightmare in reverse, it was as though she was the Alseides and someone too big was in the control chamber, growing out, ready to burst her. _I'm gonna die. Gadeth, Allen I'm alone._ A moment of rupture came. She felt a physical bursting and tearing, but somehow it was not happening to her. _Oh merciful mother, let it be quick._

The pain went away. It went so completely that it left a palpable physical absence, like the lightness you feel when you let go of something heavy. _That's it. I'm dead. It's actually kind of nice. I'm just like the others_

'Biore,' she croaked. 'Chesta? Gatti? Migel? I'm coming. Wait for me, I'm coming.' There was air in her throat. There was stone under her cheek. Did stone and air exist in death as well? She found she still had eyes to open. Her lids felt sticky. She opened them and looked into her own eyes.

_Shit. Death is going to be another freaky dream. But they're not my eyes my eyes are blue_ She blinked hard and the eyes, the face came into focus. They were not hers, her memory was fooling her. Lying beside her, awkwardly sprawled at the base of the statue, was Dilandau Albatou. He was in full armour, all his deadly, gorgeous black and red. **_That_**_ came out of me? No wonder it hurt._ They stared at each other, breathing hard.

'The Dragonslayers are dead,' Dilandau told her. He pushed himself up on his arms, rolled over, stared out at the crowd. They were staring back, white-faced and wide-eyed. Elise was looking uncertain.

'Is it supposed to go like that?' she asked.

'We were afraid of this,' said a sorceror. 'You left her too long. A new destiny has been established; full reversion is no longer possible. Since the new identity is fully viable but the old one is not fully purged, this doubling is the result.' He looked at Serena and Dilandau as though they were an unfortunate accident.

'B-but we've still got Dilandau,' Elise said. She said it as though she wanted it confirmed.

'This clears Serena!' Allen exclaimed. 'You can _have_ Dilandau. Punish _him._ I'll take Serena home.' He started forward but Elise elbowed him back.

'Oh no,' she said. 'I'm not wasting him; he's perfect. _Look_ at him.'

Serena grabbed Dilandau's wrist. 'These people will kill you,' she said. She wasn't sure if she was warning him; it was just that it seemed too cruel not to let him know. He didn't seem to listen; he was gazing at the crowd.

'Hey, there's Van,' he said. 'How about if I kill him for old times' sake?' He reached for his sword.

'Stop that! Leave him alone, you've hurt him enough.' Dilandau stared at her. _God, he's got scary eyes. He was in me was I ever really in there?_

'Look at what he did to _me!_' He jabbed at the scar on his cheek. The corner of his eye jumped slightly.

'Stop!' said Elise. 'Dilandau, it's going to be all right. We want you; we need you. You're going to fight for Asturia. From the ashes of Zaibach, we've taken the brightest ember. Look. We have your melef here.' She waved a hand; one of the sorcerors did something with a device he was holding. It decloaked; an Oreades, or rather parts of two Oreades, scavenged from the battlefield and cannibalised together. About two thirds of it was indeed Dilandau's red one, scarred and dented. 'I know it doesn't look good now,' she said, 'but we're going to build you a new one, a better one. I thought golden, instead of red.' She was smiling very brightly now, holding out her hands to him, bending toward him like a gentle mother.

Dilandau looked at her suspiciously, at the crowd, at the sorcerors, at Serena. He began to grin.

'You're giving it back? You want me to fight again?' He didn't wait for an answer, but ran to the Oreades, swung up its leg, climbing like a monkey, and dropped into the control chamber.

'What do you think you're doing? Stop him!' Van cried. No-one seemed able to move, though; looking at the fate engine, Serena saw it was still bubbling and whirring. Probably that had something to do with it; a weak inhibitory field, the reverse of the Zone of Absolute Fortune. Dilandau was flexing the Oreades' limbs, settling in. Elise approached him, trembling, holding up her hands, eyes shining.

'You'll protect us,' she said. 'We'll have stability, power, control. And you'll have well, what you want, what you've always lived for.'

'Yeah,' said Dilandau, his voice booming with echoes from inside the machine. 'Thanks for that.' The Oreades extended an arm. There was a single bright glint. Princess Elise flinched and fell, pierced through the heart by a shard of liquid metal. Millerna screamed; people began to move, but everything was too slow, everything except the Oreades. A twisted scimitar of liquid metal formed at the end of its right arm and Dilandau brought it down and through the fate engine like a scythe. Glass and metal flew through the air; fire burst out in clouds. Serena could hear him laughing joyously. People were falling, running. She saw a sorceror running in circles wrapped in flames. Another lay twitching on the ground with a broken glass pipe halfway through him.

The cloak swished closed; the Oreades lept in the air, its legs folding under it, switching to flight mode. It roared into the sky, going so high it was visible only by the sun gleaming off its metal carapace. Down below was hellish. The fire was almost burnt out; on a stone plaza, there was little for it to catch, but it was now producing choking black smoke. People were screaming; some were screaming words, others were just screaming, high and senseless. Serena crouched at the base of the statue. _Well, when the real Dilandau turns up, it looks like everyone forgets about me. He killed her just like that. What was going on with her, anyway? What in the world is happening? I can't see anyone I know._

Allen ran out of the smoke and caught her arm. 'Are you all right? Can you walk?' He helped her get to her feet, brushing her hair back from her forehead where it had caught in sweaty tangles, looking anxiously into her face. 'You have a little scrape here on your cheek.'

'I think I'm fine.'

'Thank God.' He hugged her so tightly it hurt. 'What did she think she was doing? How could she think he'd ever be safe?'

'Was she always crazy?' Allen couldn't answer; now Van and Millerna rushed up.

'Has he come down yet?' Van asked.

'I can't tell. Did you bring Escaflowne?' Of course; if anyone could beat Dilandau it was Van in Escaflowne. If Van went after him there was no help for him.

'Of course not! I left it at home! I took the Energist out of it, I didn't expect to need it again.'

'Well, that was nice and symbolic, but at the same time really _stupid!_' Serena snapped.

'Don't even speak to me! This happened because of _you!_'

'Leave her alone,' Allen warned. 'I don't want to fight you again.'

'Shut up, shut up, shut _up_.' Millerna was crying, but not panicking. 'Someone has to stop him. Don't fight, think _who._'

'No-one can fight him on foot, and the palace melefs are nowhere near capable of beating an Oreades,' Allen said.

'Are there even any left?' asked Van. 'How many came back from the battle intact?'

'He's going to come down sometime,' Serena said. 'He's still hovering up there. God, I wonder what he's thinking.'

'Wouldn't you know?'

'Shut up, Van,' Millerna sobbed. She sat down on the pavingstones with a bump, as though her legs had let her down. 'Elise' Allen looked torn between protecting Serena and comforting Millerna, unsure of who needed him more.

'I wish _everyone_ would shut up,' Serena moaned, holding her hands over her ears. 'This noise is bursting my eardrums. What's that _buzzing?_'

'I think it's' Van murmured.

'propellers!' Allen finished for him. Everyone looked up and around, wildly, and Van was the first to spot the _Crusade_ coming in low over the rooftops. It buzzed in and hovered over the plaza, drifting a little, putting the port sail in danger from the buildings bordering the square on the east, the pilot probably confused by the clouds of smoke. Ropes were dropped and the crew swarmed down ... and Gadeth was with them. Serena was so glad to see him she could have burst. She didn't know why he was there, she had no idea what good he could do, but just the sight of him gave her the irrational certainty that things would somehow be all right.

Gadeth found himself swamped by smoke; the others were around him, fanning out, but it was impossible to really tell what had happened; if there had been a bomb or a fire or what. A gust of wind from Crusade's propellers cleared a patch in front of him, and he had just time to see Serena running towards him and brace himself to catch her. She was sooty and there was a red scrape down one side of her face but nothing was going to put him off kissing her.

'What's going on?' he asked as they parted.

'Don't you know? Why did you come? Come on, you've got to help us.' She dragged him on through the smoke towards the statue. 'Gadeth's here!' she yelled to the others.

'Why?' Allen bellowed. Millerna had run off to try to calm people down; he could see her sometimes waving her arms, giving instructions. It looked like Dryden was helping her. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about that now but it really didn't help.

'We just heard the trial was today,' Gadeth said. 'I ... well, we didn't know what we could do, but we just ... it didn't seem like ... we thought if you wanted to escape' He gestured towards the smoking heap of the fate engine. 'And then we saw that go up and an Oreades shoot up in the air and we just thought _shit_ and sped up and here we are.'

'Is Scherazade on board?' Allen demanded, seeing a sudden hope.

'Yes, ready to go.'

'Then don't stand there ... get her out!' He dashed off to give orders to the crew; Gadeth went to follow him but Serena hauled him back.

'He knows about us,' she said. 'At least he knows enough to figure it out. I haven't had time to find out what he thinks.'

'Oh, crap,' said Gadeth. 'And in the middle of all this? What happened anyway?'

'Princess Elise is crazy but she's dead now and there were some sorcerers and Dilandau is back and Allen has to fight him, has to stop him because Van didn't bring Escaflowne and we couldn't have done anything if you hadn't come. I'm _so_ glad you came.' She kissed him again; it was wasting time but she couldn't help it. They realised Van was still there and staring at them.

'When do you people have time to sleep?' he said.

'Oh, like weird things never happen in Fanelia,' Serena was retorting, when a general shout went up and they turned to see Scherazade kneeling on the plaza. Allen leapt out of the control chamber and ran back to them; they went to him and met half-way.

'Serena,' he said, 'if I don't come back, I love you so very much. And Gadeth, if I don't come back ... well ... Van, whip him for me and make sure he does the right thing by Serena.' He kissed Serena on the cheek and ran back to Scherazade. When he was at its feet, Serena heard a strange high whine. As he began to vault up, some instinct saved her having to look round, saved her a precious instant.

'Allen, look out!'

The Oreades swooped in in a humming curve. Allen had heard Serena, he faltered, lurched to one side. The dart of liquid metal only went through his shoulder. Dilandau was already gone again as he grabbed at a fold of Scherazade's cloak and half swung, half fell to the ground.

Serena tripped on her skirt running to him; scrambled up with a loud rip, reached him and held him. 'Oh Allen ... no ... are you all right?' _Not now, no, it was just going to be all right, they came in the nick of time, it was going to be all right!_

'I think my arm may be broken,' he began, then had to stop talking and pant raggedly. His sleeve was rapidly turning red, getting soaked.

'I'll get Millerna,' Van said, and took off.

'He just picked me off,' Allen said. 'That wasn't his style I thought he'd be waiting for a proper fight now there's no-one who can take him. I'm the only Schezar no-one else can pilot Scherazade.'

'There's me,' Serena said, at the same moment as Gadeth said 'There's her.'

Millerna arrived, out of breath, mopping at her face with her sleeve. She had started the day in her most formal dress and by now her clothes were a wreck, scorched and dirty, the headdress lost somewhere en route and a long strip of lace hanging out from under the skirt getting in her way. At least she had managed to get some first-aid supplies brought out. She set to work on Allen's shoulder, ripping the shirt to reach the wound, trying not to let her tears fall on it; the salt would sting. He looked close to fainting as it was.

'Go on, then,' he managed to say to Serena.

'Go on what?' Millerna asked.

'She's just going to pop out in Scherazade and try to save us all,' he told her.

'Stop trying to be brave,' she said, but she was smiling a little.

Serena really could not tell how she felt; there was a lot of fear there, but a little thrill of excitement. _Do I want to fight again?_ There was only time to be practical, not to analyse her state of mind. 'I can't do anything in these skirts,' she said. 'Give us that?' She gestured to Gadeth's sword; he gave it to her and she began to saw through skirts and petticoats above the knee. 'Shame to do this to such nice material,' she said, and nearly jabbed herself in the thigh. _I'm shaking._ But ... twisting to reach the back, hacking through the dangling strip where the ends of the jagged cut didn't overlap ... her legs were free. She cast about for somewhere to hang the sword; Gadeth took off his belt too and gave it to her. She gazed up at Scherazade; glanced down at Allen. His colour was a little better; Millerna's attention must be helping.

'You're going to be all right,' she told him, 'and so am I.' _I don't really know what I'm going to do, but well, I'm going to _**_do_**_._ Gadeth put his arms round her from behind, hugged her tight and kissed her on the ear.

'I'm with you,' he said. 'I love you.'

'Love you,' she said; it might be the last time she said it. She kissed his hands, clasped in front of her. 'Here I go.' He let her go.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	12. Chapter Twelve

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Twelve**

_Don't be afraid; take it like a man  
Please behave the same way if you can  
So close I can taste it; I'm ready to please  
Too close now to fake it, pretending it's sweet  
I'm down on my knees, I'm dying to  
Show the bastards what you do!_

- Stellar*, 'What You Do.'

The feeling was like going into an exam, with added death. She swung up into the unfamiliar cockpit, settled herself, fitted her arms and legs into the padded servo sleeves. For a moment she thought she wouldn't be able to find how to close the visor and get going, but it turned out a hard shrug of her shoulders took care of that. Scherazade embraced her. As she made it stand up, people scattered away; Gadeth and Van carried Allen off between them, Millerna supporting his shoulder herself. She turned. The movement was easy; heavy, but not dragging. She had been afraid Scherazade would handle like a tank compared with an Oreades, but it was smooth, strong. _Of course ... I was born to this. Not as a warrior, as a Schezar. So where is he?_

Something glinted far out over the city. He was descending over the area of devastation where the Enhanced Luck twins had made their strike. Scherazade, of course, was not built to fly. She took a bearing by the sun and set out in as close to a straight line as she could get, along canals, hopping bridges, tramping through the city, stones cracking under Scherazade's feet. _I'm having to do damage just to protect the city._ People watched from upper-storey windows. Someone cheered: 'Go get him, Sir Allen!' Others took it up, cheering for the supposed pilot of the mighty melef. Serena, sweating slightly, tried to take it in the spirit that was meant. The cheers died in her ears as she moved into the deserted area of broken buildings. The construction sites around the edges were abandoned; she only hoped people had seen Dilandau coming and been able to get away. Clambering over a fallen tower, she came into a wide open area, a broken square. This must be where the wedding was held; where the strike came. Jajuka had briefed Dilandau, brought him up to date on what he had missed.

_That's another thing. Why do I still have his memories when he's right outside me? Are they really part of me? He didn't take them with him does it work both ways? Does that mean he knows everything I've thought and felt these last few days?_ It was a monumentally embarrassing thought. She refused to deal with it just then; she needed to be alert.

He was waiting for her, the Oreades poised in the centre of the square, dramatic, just as he always liked. She stepped forward, put Scherazade's hand to the hilt of its sword.

_I wish this was face-to-face, hand-to-hand. I can't see him in there. I want to talk to him. At a remove like this I can't deal with him, not properly. I want to see _**_him._**

The Oreades leapt in the air, ready to fly away again.

'Stop! Face me! You can't run away from me!' Her voice echoed in the cockpit; she didn't know if he could even hear her properly.

'Can you even keep up?' He rose, mockingly slowly, just out of reach. 'I want to get out of this lousy city. This could be interesting, don't you think? Why should we limit ourselves to this arena? I want to have some _fun_ with you, Serena. Come out and play.'

For a long time, there was only the pursuit. She cursed Scherazade for being an antique, unable to fly, forced to stride through the countryside like a giant, clumsy, damaging even where she tried to be careful. He'd fly on ahead, he'd wait for her, never let her catch up. Sometimes he was only a glint in the distance; sometimes he'd let her get really close, so she thought it was going to come to something, there would be an engagement, and then he'd turn and move on.

_What can he be getting from this? Does he just want to tease me? I must be able to get into that mind _ But she had no sense of him. It was lonely. She'd never known she was aware of Dilandau within herself until he was removed. He had been so deeply submerged he was nothing but the barest, deepest pressure on her psyche, never enough to make her act or speak or feel with thoughts other than her own, never that much of an influence, but there. Just a part of her, her unknowable insides _my heart, my liver, my bowels, my Dilandau. I carried you within me just as you carried me. I can't love or hate you any more than I love or hate this body; it's a prerequisite of living in the world, what I must have to have anything else, good or ill. You're part of the conditions. How can I be without you?_

_Of course, I did hate this body, to begin with. Do you hate me like that? Weak and leaking? Open, touchable, no longer superior and safe? Wait, where'd he go? _

'Damn it!' she said aloud. 'Stop _thinking_ so much! You've lost him, you silly cow.' But no, there he was, not far off, descending to the forest where it spilled down to the coastline. The afternoon light was getting low and lazy, but there was a good while left until dark. He seemed to actually be stopping there, although it might be another tease, and she was getting really sick of that; it might make sense to refuse to play his game, to stop and force him to come to her but he might not, and then there'd be a psychotic fifteen-year-old boy in a fully-armed Oreades at large unchallenged in Asturia and it would be her fault. 

It was much too hot in the cockpit; she would have to get out sooner or later. Golden slices of sunshine fell through the louvred visor and drew the sweat out of her; with arms in the servo sleeves she couldn't wipe her face or get her hair out of her eyes. _Hello, I'm Serena Schezar. I cry and I sweat, and for my next birthday I would like a haircut. In the future, I'm thinking of diversifying into bedwetting. Horses sweat and men perspire, but ladies merely glow where does that leave me? God, it's good to be crazy. A sane person couldn't deal with this at _**_all_**_._ The heat was making her feel manic, but walking in Scherazade was like walking in dreams, or seven-league boots, great strides that took you further than you thought, and she was reaching the forest edge. She could see the Oreades' carapace; it had touched down in a clearing somewhere in there. She wasn't about to just smash her way through a forest; she felt bad enough about the fences and walls she'd broken on her way here.

She made Scherazade kneel, shrugged open the cockpit and climbed down. It would be face-to-face; she would force him to meet her on her own terms. If he wanted to 'have fun' with her he wouldn't just cut her down where she stood.

'Thank you for bringing me this far,' she said to the armoured giant. 'I'm sorry I abused you like that. You can't help the way you're made.' Grass swished around her ankles; her stockings were rolling down, pulled out of their garters by activity (ladies didn't run) and she was very aware of the air on her legs. _Short skirts and bare knees, like when I was a little girl in summer tucking my skirts up in my knicker-legs to go paddling_ She could see the little ice-skate scar. She had screamed her head off when that was made. _Even if I'm a crier, I'm not a screamer any more. _She stopped and breathed deeply, eyes closed. _I won't die. I won't lose._

'Ready or not, Dilandau, here I come.' She drew her sword and walked into the forest.

Pain, dull red, at the back of her skull. She was extremely uncomfortable and for some reason couldn't get her eyes open. Everything was very confused.

_What happened again? I walked into the clearing I saw the Oreades he must have crept up on me. An explosion in my head_

The whirling in her head abated a little and she remembered how to open her eyes. She didn't yet, though, she tried to get her bearings without showing she was conscious. She was tied up; tied with her back to a tree, it felt like, with her arms out at shoulder height bound to low branches. That was why she was so uncomfortable, the cords were tight and her arms were getting prickly-numb. The right arm was higher than the left and the asymmetry was annoying.

A leather-gloved hand touched her face and her eyes flew open. Dilandau had his hand under her chin, and he took firm hold of her jaw and raised her head to look her in the eye.

'I thought you were waking up,' he said, 'you started to breathe louder. You're slack. You were easy to surprise. A few lazy days is enough to get badly out of practise, isn't it?' He was tinted reddish by sunset light falling through the trees, putting a pink sheen on his ashy hair. 'I could have killed you straight away. You need to try harder, girl, you're not making this any fun for me.'

'I haven't been well,' Serena said. She was struggling to keep calm; being so close to him made her immensely tense. It wasn't even a tension with an emotional flavour she could name; it was just like having every nerve drawn tight, wound up like watchsprings.

'I know,' he said. 'I've been trapped in there with you, remember? Like you were in me. Having to know about it while you bled and puked and snivelled. I don't know if I can forgive you for making me know that stuff. I could just about say I've been raped.'

Serena cringed. 'I didn't know about you then. I believed you were gone.'

'Didn't know you had two guys inside you, I take it?'

'Don't talk about it like that.' She tried to turn her head away but he wouldn't let her; his fingers pinched into her face, hard like bone inside the soft leather.

'Why not? We have no secrets, you and I. I know everything you've ever felt, everything you've ever been.'

'You don't know what I'm thinking now.' She tried to glare defiance.

'Would I want to?'

'Untie me and I'll fight you. Stop pissing about. You know what I want.'

'I know what you like,' he said, and kissed her. It was a hard kiss, aggressive, bruising. There was just the slightest awkwardness at the back of it, something of her own uncertainty. She decided to frighten him; parted her lips and touched his with her tongue. He jerked away as though he had been burned. There was genuine shock in his eyes; a sense of invasion.

'What's wrong? Wasn't I supposed to enjoy that?' If she had found a weakness, something he wasn't sure about, she was going to prosecute it to the hilt. 'What did you have in mind?'

'Shut up,' he said softly, and slapped her hard across the face. She knew it was coming and let her head roll with it, lessening the impact. It still stung, and she was dizzy for a moment, but he had not hurt her as much as he had wanted to. She let her head hang while she recovered, and he walked away, restless, impetuous.

'That's more like you,' she said. 'Although I'll warn you, I have less tolerance than the Dragonslayers did for being smacked around. Do you miss them? Do you miss having someone to take all your abuse and thank you for it?'

'You know how I feel,' he said bitterly. 'You were there.'

'You can't be alone any more than I can,' she said. 'You want me to take their place, don't you? You want to be adored.'

'I don't have _your_ need to be loved,' Dilandau sneered. 'I value myself more than that. I never lowered myself.' He paced back towards her. 'I never asked them to feel that way. I never begged like you do. You're such a little wimp, worrying about whether people will like you. I don't wonder, I know. And you know you want that certainty.'

'Untie me. I won't talk to you if you don't untie me.'

He ignored her, standing back and looking at her. 'I suppose you're not bad. You're not me, but you're the nearest I'd ever get.' Walking through the forest, she had undone the top buttons of the dress, trying to get some air to her stifling skin; now he pulled the collar open a little further, letting the buttons pop undone, one by one, just enough to expose the edging of her underwear. He placed his hand on her right breast; a strange gesture, without genuine interest, without awareness that it was anything special, just as he would touch anything to find out more about it. He was still looking at her critically; his whole manner was detached.

'Stop that. You know you don't want to. Fight me. You'll like that much more. I'm a match for you.'

'No,' he said, just to be difficult, she could see. He walked away again and seated himself on the Oreades' right foot, casual and jaunty. He took off his gloves, then his heavy jacket with the armoured shoulders, stripping to his soft undershirt and hard bare arms. Serena hung in her bonds, trying to think what she could do.

'I'm really annoyed with you, you know,' he said. 'I want to _hurt_ you. But I'm still thinking about how.'

'You've hurt my brother.'

'That was pretty good, I thought. Disappointing to only wing him, of course. I can't stand hero types like him.'

'Untie me and fight me,' Serena repeated. 'Or talk to me properly. This is never going to go anywhere as it is. Come on. Are you afraid?'

'You're fixated on fighting me, aren't you?'

'You said you wanted to hurt me.'

'Not the same.' He got up and wandered back to her, standing before her, considering her. He drew his sword and cut the cord at her right wrist. The arm dropped to her side heavily and she had to shake it to try to get the feeling back in her hand.

'You're in a weird mood today,' Serena said. Her hand didn't yet feel like it fully belonged to her, but soon it would and she could free her left, then do something about the cord round her waist. In the meantime, she wanted to talk, not merely to keep him occupied, but really to find out what he was thinking.

'They've brought me back to fight again, yes? Why do they think I'll do it for Asturia? Do they think I'm just a tool to be used?'

'Of course not you're a weapon.' She was unpicking the knot at her left wrist now, and blessedly it wasn't too tight.

'Do you remember your dreams?' he asked abruptly. 'I mean, do you remember them now?'

'I I think I've had some that I don't remember,' she said. 'I've woken feeling strange and that might explain it. I haven't had a dream that I remember in a long time.'

'I remember your dreams, the ones you forget when you're awake. Do you know you've been talking to that Deceptant? His ghost, or an idea of him.'

'What did he say?'

'What you just did. "You're a weapon."'

'Perhaps he knows what he's talking about.' Serena wrung her left hand with her right; she was getting terrible pins and needles. The air was cooling now and she decided to do up her buttons before freeing herself from the tree. That knot was not too difficult either. It made her wonder.

'Do they think I have no sense of loyalty?' Dilandau asked. 'To just pick up and change sides like side-away in rounders? What kind of freak do they think I am?'

'I don't know,' Serena said, 'what kind of freak are you?' She flexed her arms experimentally. 'What did you do with the sword I had?'

'I'm not telling.'

'I need it back. It's only borrowed.'

'Because anyone can use a weapon, right? It doesn't matter to it who's in charge.' He strolled back to the Oreades and looked up at it. 'This thing is more powerful, but I miss the Alseides model. It was a more comfortable ride, and I really knew how to work it. I did some great things in an Alseides.'

'Do you think it was so great, what you did in Fanelia? I'll tell you one thing, now you're out in the world again Van will catch up with you sooner or later.'

Dilandau made a sour face. 'I can beat him. Give me time.'

'You're scared of him.'

'You _like_ him.'

Serena blushed, and hated herself for blushing. 'Not that much.'

'Now you've done your experiment with Gadeth, are you going to try Van out?'

'It wasn't an experiment. I love him.'

'There is no accounting for taste,' Dilandau said. He reached down by the melef's foot, and lifted Gadeth's sword from the scrubby grass. He stood it up on end, balancing it on its point with one controlling finger on the pommel of the hilt, and looked at it critically. 'This is the wrong weapon for you. You need something lighter. What am I going to do with you? You're useless, girl, useless.'

'I'm finding my way,' Serena said defensively. 'You can't expect me to get everything sorted out in a few days, especially with the kind of things that have been happening. I'm still separating myself from you.'

He looked up at her, and again she seemed to have scored a hit in some way she didn't altogether understand.

'And when you're all separate, everything will be all better, right? You'll forget me. You'll never think about what you could be, what we could be. I'm the best. I was created to be the best, and I fulfilled my potential with my own sweat and blood. No-one's going to take that away from me. And you you're an aspect of me. I wouldn't be here without you. I would be willing to take you with me.'

'Take me where?'

'Wherever we go!'

'Do you even have a plan?'

'If you want a plan ask that cold drink of water Folken. No, wait, he's supposed to be dead, isn't he? No-one holding me back now.'

'No-one holding you at all,' Serena said. She approached him and put her hand on the hilt of the sword, gripped it firmly. He gave her hand a questioning look and let her take the blade away. She took a deep breath. She was about to strike at him, though not with the sword.

'No-one wants you, Dilandau. They may want what you can do, but other people can do that too. It doesn't exactly take intelligence. But people do want me ... not what I'm useful for, but what I am to them. I'm Allen's sister. I think I'm getting to be Millerna's friend. I'm Gadeth's ... well, I'm Gadeth's, all right? You're not anyone's anything. No-one wants you any more.'

His eyes darkened and his lips tightened. 'Jajuka took care of me. He wanted me to be all right.'

'So you'd stay alive long enough to have a chance to turn back into me. I was the goal. I was what Jajuka cared about.'

'I'm the hero of thousands of people in Zaibach!'

'How long will that last when they find out how you've ended up?' She raised the sword, sure he was going to attack her. He leapt up from the melef's foot, but instead of drawing his own sword he spat at her, turned and ran away through the scrub. After a moment's startled stillness, Serena took off after him, dodging between trees, hopping over roots and uneven ground, until the forest gave out and they were running down a slope to the coastline, to a white beach bordered with gently, ponderously rolling waves. Dilandau ploughed into the water up to his knees before he seemed to run out of momentum and stopped, looking bleakly out at the flat, blood-red evening horizon. A small breaker surged in around him, white foam rising up towards his waist, and he swayed with its force but still stood.

Serena waded up to him.

'You could go,' she said.

'Go where?'

'Out there.' She gestured with her free hand, out to sea in general. 'You know about the other continents. Asgard, Pelonia ... they've never seen anyone like you. You could start a new life ... you wouldn't have too much trouble getting your way with people. Just leave me and mine alone. You don't want to be a weapon ... well, you don't need to fight. The Oreades should have enough energy to fly you there if you reroute all the power to navigation and flight systems, cut off the weapons and stealth cloak. I'll even give you the energist out of Scherazade for a spare. There is no place for you in Asturia, Dilandau ... I'll make damn sure of that. But I'm prepared to give you a chance.'

He turned his face to her. At first she thought he was squinting because of the bright reflection of the setting sun on the water, but when a tear trickled down his cheek she realised he was trying to keep from crying.

'I'm your ... your something,' he said. 'And even you don't want me?'

'It isn't a question of wanting or not wanting,' she said wearily. 'But yes, you are my Dilandau.'

'Well, come with me then. Don't make me go off all by myself.' He offered her his hand.

'Scherazade doesn't fly.' She was making excuses.

'You can ride on the Oreades ... on the shoulder, or slung in the cloak. It'd work. Your weight wouldn't make that much difference.'

'You know I won't.'

'And you know I won't.' They stood together in the low surf for a while, the waves sucking the sand from under their feet. It would be dark soon.

'Bugger this,' Serena said. She waded out and stuck Gadeth's sword back in the belt. 'Come on. You can't stand there all night, Dilandau. We can sleep in the dunes and figure out what to do in the morning.'

'Can we?' Dilandau said, without much hope in his voice, but he followed her to the sandhills and lay down where she showed him.

'Sand dunes are a pretty good place to sleep,' she said, trying to come up with pleasing thoughts as she settled herself. 'This isn't as nice of a beach as the last one I was at, but I like waking up with the sound of the waves. Don't even mind the sand ... although the wet clothes aren't too great. The sound of waves definitely helps me sleep.'

He didn't speak, but lay still on his back looking up at the sky. It was turning inky blue, shading to black, and the first stars were coming out. It was getting hard to see the look on his face but loneliness hung around him like a cold mist. She had no idea how to speak to him, how to behave. There was no word for the relationship between them and certainly no model for their intercourse.

'Hey,' she said softly, and put her hand on his arm.

'Hey what?'

'Just hey.'

'I know you hate me.' It was said softly, quickly.

'No I don't. And you said you don't care, anyway.'

'I can't feel how you feel any more. I'm all alone in my head. I know you don't love me. And with me, people are one way or the other.' He rolled towards her, took her face between his hands, and stared into her eyes. He was too close.

'Please don't.'

'But if I could be in you again we could sort of melt into the same person I'm not managing on my own. I never knew you were there but you must have been doing something because I feel like I've lost half my mind. I'd never have thought you were such an important part. I need you back.'

'It doesn't work like that.' She wanted very badly to wriggle away, to retreat, but it felt like walking away from someone dangling from the edge of a cliff.

'It might for us ... you don't know. You must feel this too. You can't be happy without me.' He waited for her to reply. 'I can't tell what you're thinking, Serena ... say yes or no.'

'You know when I thought you were gone, and I didn't have to be you ever again, that was when I started to be happy. And I don't feel it as badly as you I'm truly sorry for you but I want us to stay separate.'

His hands traced down from her face to her throat. 'I could kill you right now. You couldn't stop me.'

'No. But you'd be alone forever.'

'I will be anyway. So I guess it doesn't matter.' He let go, and rolled away from her, curling on his side. Serena put her arm around him, nestling at his back, moved by pity in spite of everything. Sleep came to her after a while; she thought he was still awake.

When she woke it was soft and misty sunrise, and Dilandau was gone. At first she thought he might have vanished during the night like a dream, or really have melted back into herself, but then she noticed the footprints leading back over the dune to the beach, separate from the double track they had made in the evening. She followed them and found him. He lay on his back, breathing in shallow, irregular little rushes. He had simply cut his own throat, one short, straight stroke with the dagger from his belt, under his left ear, and fallen back on the soft white sand, soaked dark red under his head and shoulders. It must have taken great determination, great despair, to make that cut, and then to lie there as still as he had. The sand was not disturbed; he had not thrashed or fought.

'I don't know why it's taking so long,' he said softly, hoarsely, and a little blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, tracing an uneven trail down the line of his jaw to meet up with the weakening flow from his neck. 'I just just did it a little while ago I thought you died straight away. It'd be nice to just fade out at sunrise'

'Idiot,' she said miserably, crouching down beside him. She could try to stanch the wound but he had clearly bled too much already to survive now. She pressed her hand against it anyway. 'Why would you do this to yourself?'

'You didn't didn't leave me much choice.' The garnet-coloured eyes flicked up at her reproachfully.

'I tried to give you a choice. I really tried!'

'I thought I thought it would be nice if you didn't have to choose whether to kill me. Because I'm not going anywhere. It hurts I thought it would be quicker than this.' His voice was becoming very weak. He was so pale that his skin was nearly grey.

'Why would you be nice to me?'

'I've always taken care of myself.' He gave a sickly smile. 'And I'd rather go like this than give Van the satisfaction right? Knock him off for me sometime if you can at least maim him a little. He doesn't need _two_ eyes.'

'I'll see what I can do,' she promised. It was true enough, as non-committal promises to humour the dying went.

'So at least he didn't bag all the Dragonslayers.' His voice was a reedy whisper now; the garnet eyes were darkening, his pupils dilating. 'I'll see the others again if we're going to the same place want me to say hi for you?'

'Please' Serena took his hand in hers and squeezed it. 'And tell them I said I'm sorry.'

'What for?' A little frown of puzzlement passed over Dilandau's face, but his expression cleared again. It took her a moment to realise this was because he had died. She had thought for a moment that he understood something that she didn't; that he could explain it all to her. The first part of that was certainly true now.

Serena knelt at his side, holding his right hand in her lap, as the day's full light dawned. After a while she bent and kissed him goodbye. She tasted blood on her lips; to spit or wipe her mouth would have profaned the moment, so she wet her lips and swallowed. Her own right hand was stained deep red, sticky-feeling as the blood began to dry.

_Your blood's in me. You'll always be a little bit in me. Oh, Dilandau you look like a marble saint you look like my brother._

When the Oreades touched down again in the Plaza of Justice, it was met by armed guards, ready to defend Pallas as well as they could. Gadeth saw it land from the steps where he was waiting, and his heart twisted in his chest. She must be dead. It had all gone for nothing; all his hope and hers. All hell would break loose now, but all he could think was _How am I going to tell the Boss?_ He still sat on the steps, gazing dully as the guards ringed the melef, pikes and swords at the ready, for what good that would do. _I should do something._ But there did not seem to be anything to be done.

The cockpit opened and the pilot held up his hands. Held up _her_ hands.

'I'm unarmed,' Serena said. Her voice was hoarse and tired; she looked like an avenging angel who has done enough avenging for one day. 'I want to come down, please. I'm not dangerous. Dilandau is dead.'

He was slung in the stealth cloak at the machine's shoulders, doubled over on itself and pinned together with the dagger and two swords. Gadeth would have noticed the bundle, but as he ran across the square to tell the guards to stop being idiots and let Serena get down, she was all he could see.

Some people wanted Dilandau's body displayed, but Millerna forbade it. Some people wanted to celebrate that he was dead, but given that the King and a princess had also died it would hardly have been appropriate. People left flowers where Elise had fallen. The heavier bunches lay still but some single blooms flitted over the stones in the breeze as afternoon shaded to evening. The Oreades was moved to a barracks. It would probably be dismantled again, but this time to find out how it worked and perhaps build more, if Asturian melefwrights were capable. Since a few small but vital components had walked away from the machine in Serena's pockets, the probable success of their efforts was debatable.

'You're free to go,' Millerna said. 'That is, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want to, but you're not in custody. None of this is going any further. The whole thing was just a dreadful, sad mistake.' She was speaking to Serena in her room, where she was changing the dressing on Allen's shoulder, very gently, not to wake him. Serena was sitting on the bed in a shirt and trousers borrowed from a pageboy. After everything that had happened that day, she just wanted to be comfortable. She had had a bath, scrubbing all over, removing the sweat and sand and the dry, flaking blood, for it had been messy moving Dilandau. She thought she had rather hurt Gadeth's feelings by not acting pleased to see him; but she had had no feelings just then. It was simply not in her to run to meet him yet. They had separated at the palace, he taking Crusade to retrieve Scherazade as she asked him to do, she going to check on Allen. She thought she was getting back to normal now.

'Our poor men,' Millerna said, showing Serena the scars across Allen's torso. 'I put the stitches in those myself. I always think it's a miracle he didn't die of peritonitis.' She was running on a sort of second wind of fatigue, with grey shadows under eyes pink from crying. 

'You're Queen now, right?' Serena asked. 'It all comes down to you?' She put her hand on Allen's chest, above the scars, and felt him breathing. Thank heaven, thank heaven he was going to be all right.

'It all comes down to me,' said Millerna brokenly, and had to blow her nose on a pad of gauze she had been going to use on Allen. 'Oh dear ... how unhygienic.' She dropped it in the wastepaper basket under the bedside table and took up another.

'I know it's a bad time to ask for anything, but Elise said Gadeth could be charged with treason ... for taking me out of the palace, helping me escape ... and I don't want him to have trouble I mean, can it just be dropped like the rest of it, or will he need an official pardon?'

'That's right, of course, we have to deal with that,' Millerna said. She made the ends of the bandage fast and tidy, and pulled the covers back up. 'Elise would know. I'll ask Dryden about it get him to make up the document. Royal pardon for Gadeth is that his first name or his last name?'

'I ... I just realised I don't know.'

'Finn,' said Gadeth, surprised. 'My last name is Finn. I can't believe you didn't know that. Didn't I ever say?' It was around eleven at night now; he had come straight back to the palace once Crusade and Scherazade were back at the Schezar estate, and found Serena still up. She had been moved to a proper guest room, and he'd been a little excited at the thought that they would have some privacy (if she was up for it after the time she'd had; he realised he couldn't assume anything), and the first thing she said to him when he walked in was 'What's your last name?' He had written her earlier coolness off to shock and fatigue, but this turn bewildered him.

'Not that I can remember,' Serena said. 'See? We don't really know each other. I'm not even sure what you've been doing with your life. I mean, you said Allen got posted out to the swamps where you guys were, but you had your little boat down in Pallas, so when were you there, how does it fit in, where did you live, what was it like, where were you born, I know none of this!' She was really agitated, hands chopping at the air as she paced around.

'Well, I could tell you if you asked!'

'I haven't even known you a whole month yet, and I got you to commit treason for me, and I slept with you, and I hate to think what Allen's going to have to say about that when he wakes up.'

'You said you didn't regret any of that,' he said. He looked heartbroken.

'I don't. But I don't know what any of it means.'

'That we love each other would be a nice idea.'

'You're so ready to say that.'

'Because I mean it!' He threw up his arms; that just seemed dramatic and stupid. He let them drop again. A thought occurred to him; he'd have to say it carefully. 'I'm going to be really patronising now,' he said. 'I'm going to say, do you think maybe you're feeling like this because you've just had two days from hell and you're tired past yourself and a little thing on top of all that has sent you temporarily over the edge?'

Serena stood still. A lot of the energy seemed to go out of her; her shoulders sagged. 'That's possible,' she said.

'So go to bed, dummy! You can't fix any of this while you're exhausted. You need a good night's sleep and tomorrow I'll tell you my complete biography and whatever else you want to know. Just please go to bed. Do you know how pale you are?' He touched her face, carefully avoiding the healing scrape on her cheek.

'I've missed lunch _and_ dinner,' she said plaintively, 'and I was sick after breakfast so that doesn't count. It feels like today was a hundred years long. Oh God ... I've skipped a day, haven't I? I can't count it up now.' She looked towards the bed. 'I'd like you to stay with me, but just to sleep.'

'Just to be the teddybear? I can manage that.' He pulled her closer to him for a hug; if he could comfort her he would.

Serena declared herself too tired to take off more than her shoes; Gadeth wondered if sleeping in her clothes was a way of keeping him off, but decided to say nothing about it for now. They curled up together, nested like two spoons, Gadeth at Serena's back. He tried to warm her, willing her to relax, but she was still tense and alert.

'I think I'm too tired to sleep,' she said eventually. 'I can't stop my brain.'

'Instead of just lying here, we could, no, hear me out, we could talk.'

'I can't think of anything.'

'But you can't stop your brain?'

A silence.

'Do you want to talk about what happened today and yesterday? If it's upsetting you?'

'I thought soldiers didn't talk about that type of thing.'

'It depends who you're with. You wouldn't talk about it this way with the crew I mean, they can be assholes all together, though some of them are okay alone, it's just how guys are but if you're with me wouldn't it make you feel better?'

More silence.

'Listen, I don't know what to do here.'

'I just don't feel anything. I'd gotten used to my feelings being all up and down, I didn't like all the crying but if that's the way I deal with things now fine, but I think I should cry for him or something, he died all alone after what I said to him, but I can feel I'm not going to.' She had gotten started now and it seemed she wasn't going to stop; she told him everything she'd been thinking, everything that had happened and how it had made her feel. It must have taken almost an hour, garbled, cutting back and forth between subjects.

'You were the best thing of all; you must know that. And I want you to love me but I'm afraid you won't when you really know me. I still don't understand why you do now.'

Gadeth felt overwhelmed by this wash of words; there was just too much here. 'I love you, and I want you, and I need you to be happy. If you think I'm too ready to say that I never felt ready to say it before. It's just how you make me feel. You're different from anyone else I've ever known.'

'Damn straight I am,' she said, and gave a little snort, but it was just an awkward laugh, not contempt. 'One thing I want to know because I'm never sure if I'm a successful woman you don't think I'm like a boy, do you?'

'Like a boy? God, no.' He was a little startled. 'Not like an ordinary woman, no, but, well,' he decided to chance it and put a hand lightly over her breast, 'this,' moving down to her hip, under her bottom, 'this,' along the underside of her thigh, pausing in the soft crease behind her knee, then over the top of the thigh, over the hip, ending with his hand resting on her stomach, 'all this, is completely female. You're beautiful. I told you so. I told you lots of times ... and that was just the other night, remember? I haven't had time to change my mind. And if your mind is not totally girly, it just makes you more interesting to me. I wouldn't want you to be like a boy; I just like you the way you are. A little bit mixed, maybe.' _I wish she didn't have all her clothes on. This is definitely not teddybear duty. Could I get my hand a little bit lower?_ But she had put her own hand over it.

'I just can't believe how _nice_ you are,' she said. 'I didn't think there were people like you. I felt really sure on the first morning, but it wore off, so I think I'll need you to remind me.'

'Any time. All the time.' He tried to kiss the back of her neck, but she twisted away, gently.

'I didn't mean go for it now.' She sounded amused, not annoyed. 'And I meant with things you say, too. It isn't that I don't feel like it ... just that I'm really sleepy now and I don't think I could stay awake.'

'Thank you so much.' He hugged her tighter. 'So I managed to stop your brain but not get your body going?'

'Ask me again in the morning.' She dozed off soon after that, and he lay awake a while longer, aching but glad just to be with her.

She was on the battlefield, and the Dragonslayers' bodies were piled before her. Before her. She was not under them, not crushed there. The rot and the stink were not there. She was herself, fully Serena Schezar. They were heavy, but she lifted them down one by one, laid them out. They were so young; it came to her again as she saw each face. _I will live. I will grow old. I'll die an old woman, hopefully fat and rich and happy. It's worth it; I'm worth it. I can make other people happy. We depend on each other; we can be happy together. I'm not afraid of myself now; I'm not afraid of this body. And I'm not afraid of you either._

She meant this for Dilandau, as she rolled Jajuka's body out of the pit, but he was not there. There was only the gentle beastman. She laid him with the others and smoothed his fur; arranged them all like knights with their hands crossed on their swords, laid on their chests. She could not have done this for their real bodies; those were burnt up, torn apart.

_They should not have lived and died the way they did. A dreadful, sad mistake; that's what it was all right. I say goodbye to it. I'll remember you all. You didn't know me, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for it all._

They turned, moved, not waking but settling into a truer sleep. The Dragonslayers did not lie like stone knights on tombs, but like boys in their beds, faces softening to show the children they should have been for longer. Jajuka curled round on himself, gentle and strong. If she could see his paws twitch, that would mean he was dreaming. She sat down at his side, and watched him sleep.

[**Back to the Scars On the Heart page**][1]

   [1]: scars.html



	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Now I wake up happy,  
Warm in a lover's embrace.  
There's no-one else to touch us  
While we're in this place.  
Though I'm frightened by the words  
I think it's time I made them heard._

- Split Enz, 'Message to My Girl.'

Serena woke with the pillow wet under her head. She realised, though, that it had not been a night sweat; her sheets were dry. It was only tears, only damp patches where they had run over her face. She knew what she had dreamt; remembered all the other dreams. Gadeth had helped her to start to feel better; she had had to do the rest herself. _And I went after him myself, and I said goodbye to him myself. It wasn't good but it was the best things could have been. Goodbye, Dilandau._

She rolled over, under the sleeping weight of Gadeth's arm, kissed his cheek and settled herself against him, content to wait until he woke.

Then, slowly, she raised her head again to look over his shoulder. Allen was watching her, had been watching them sleep, from a chair placed on the other side of the bed. He was in a dressing gown, recovering, arm in a clean white sling, his hair tied together in a tail that hung over his uninjured shoulder. She could not read his expression.

'Please don't be angry,' she whispered. 'I need him. And he needs me.'

'I won't say I wasn't angry at first,' Allen said. 'I felt as though I'd been robbed; I'd wanted to find you someone, to see you settled and happy. It would have been something I could do for you. I even had a shortlist in mind, with plenty of time for revisions ... you should have had a few years more at least. But when I thought about it ... which Millerna insisted I did, instead of coming in here to run him through ... I realised there isn't anyone I _like _better than Gadeth. I think I told you he was the best man I knew. I have nothing to be angry about there. And how can I criticise your choice? Look at my history.' He was smiling.

'And look how well it's turned out in the end,' she said. 'I happen to know where you spent last night.'

'And she slept on the divan, thank you very much.'

'And we're fully dressed under the covers, thank you very much.'

'What sort of deviants are you?' Smiling still, teasing her, a proper brother.

'Don't make me laugh! We'll wake him up!' She was half laughing anyway. 'He can certainly sleep, can't he? Isn't he cute?' Slightly disturbed by their noise, Gadeth rolled onto his back.

'Don't ask me to find him cute. If you do, that's enough.' Allen got up to go, leaned over Gadeth and kissed his sister's forehead. 'Be happy.' He left the room quietly.

Gadeth opened his eyes, blinked, screwed up his face and yawned. 'I had the strangest dream,' he said. 'I thought the Boss was in here just now and he said I was cute when I was asleep.'

'Just because you are,' Serena said, and kissed him hard. He responded gladly, but when they parted, looked at her in concern.

'You've been crying,' he said reproachfully. 'Your eyes are pink.'

'Yes, and it's made me feel better, so don't criticise crying,' she said. 'Remember your promise? About telling me your life's story?'

'First thing in the morning?' he said, and winced. 'I haven't even been to the loo. You really want to hear a long, not terribly interesting story first thing in the morning?'

'It's important to me,' she said. 'And if you keep putting me off I'm going to think you've got some kind of dark secret I should know about. An evil twin or something.' _If I keep asking is he just going to get annoyed with me?_

'Give me five minutes. Is that the bathroom over there?' She nodded; he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat for a moment scrubbing his hands through his hair. 'Ugh. Morning. You I like, morning I don't.' He wandered off to the bathroom. Serena sat up in bed and waited. The side of her face felt stiff and sore today, but less raw; it must be healing. It was a little chilly in the room, with the quilt only covering her lap. Autumn was beginning. She wriggled back under the covers, into the warm space their sleep had made. The borrowed trousers were no longer comfortable, now that they were wrinkled and riding up her legs; she took them off and kicked them out of the side of the bed, onto the floor. Sleeping in a shirt was better than a nightdress; a nightdress would be more modest when you were out of bed but it twisted around you as you turned over and eventually got wadded up around your waist in a ridge. A shirt did the same thing, of course, but there was less material to wad. Sleeping in nothing at all was, of course, quite comfortable _but not in my life, with people always charging in and out of my room to arrest me or tell me they're not angry about Gadeth ... come to think of it, having Gadeth there could make a definite difference to the whole people-charging-in aspect of things. But still, I would only feel really happy about it in places where we could have real privacy, like the beach house. There ... I've worked out a preference. I know what I like as far as nightclothes are concerned. _She felt happy about making her mind up about that. It was something for normal life, and hopefully there would be more of that from now on. Provided, of course, that Gadeth did not come out of the bathroom to inform her that he was descended from a long line of compulsive liars or was wanted in several counties for acts of unnatural romance with sheep. _Just don't worry about it. See what he says._

He emerged from the bathroom looking more alert; he seemed to have washed his face. 'So, story of my life,' he said as he crossed the room. 'I was born in Awamut ... that's a country town a couple of days east from here. It's mainly a pipfruit-growing area. My family had a few orchards, we made cider, we weren't rich but we got along all right.' He climbed back into bed. 'Is it me or is it getting cold?'

'It's cold. Come here and I'll warm you up.' They curled up together; she rested her head on his shoulder. 'Keep going. What was your family like? Did you have brothers and sisters?'

'I had six. And my dad's brother lived with us, with his family, so I had five cousins around all the time as well. It was just too many; we must have worked my mum and auntie off their feet. The house wasn't really built for two families. In my room there was me, my two little brothers and my cousin Jonty, top and tail in two big beds. There was never anywhere where there wasn't someone else, except on the roof or up a tree sometimes. I'm not complaining, it was usually a lot of fun to be such a big bunch of kids together, but there were times when you got really sick of it.'

'I can imagine.'

'As for Mum and Dad ... well, people tell me I look like Dad, except he had a funny arm. The right arm was about four inches shorter than the left one and he couldn't move it all that well ... the hand was always in a sort of loose fist. He was born that way. He was really good at doing everything with his left arm and his mouth, and we hardly even noticed it when we were kids, but when we got older we were embarrassed by it. Which was stupid when I think about it, but you know how kids are about their parents looking conspicuous it used to kind of wag when he walked, and we used to walk the other side of the road from him and pretend we weren't his.

'And Mum was just great, she was really tall, with big hands, she was good at baking and she was famous in the area for her apple pies. So I had a mother who baked apple pies, and that was nice. She had a gold medal from the Countrywomen's Institute. I haven't been able to go back to see them in years, but we write. Mum mainly. I haven't gotten on well with Dad for a while, and I guess that's the next bit of the story.'

'Before you go on, was this the same uncle who had the beach cabin? Living with you, I mean.'

'No, the beach uncle was my mother's brother, Uncle Josha. Uncle Matty didn't have an artistic bone in his body. His main interests besides orchards were playing rugby, distance spitting and annoying people. He used to tease us kids till we wished he'd drop dead.'

'Fun to live with?'

He chuckled. 'Well, we put up with him most of the time.'

'What were you like when you were a boy? I want to be able to imagine you.'

'I'm not really sure how I looked, except I was skinny and I had a lot of scabs on my knees, up until I was about twelve, then I started filling out, but I still had the scabs. Is that enough for you? I liked rugby, I was interested in boats and airships, I had this plan that I was going to go out to Fanelia and tame a dragon and bring it home I just hooned around with my brothers and my boy cousins and life was fun until I was fifteen.'

'What happened then?' Something bad?

'Well, I started fighting with Dad, because he thought I should work in the orchard, run it with my older brother Therow so it'd stay Finn Bros, but by that time I'd decided I wanted to be a shipwright and build racing yachts ... I was going through a Fruit is Boring period, and I used to really piss him off complaining about everything at home. What are you giggling about?'

'Fruit is Boring.'

'It _is_ when you're fifteen.'

'I _am_ fifteen.'

'Only in years. I'm choosing to believe you're older in spirit because otherwise I feel like I'm robbing a cradle.' _It's not that bad; can't be that bad. The Boss proposed to Hitomi and she was only this age._

'So I'm too mature to be bored by fruit.'

'Yeah, you're old enough to understand its true fascination. One day you too will be able to tell a Queen Therese and a Southern Snap apart in the dark by feel.'

'Because Queen Therese says get your hands off me, you commoner.' They were right off track now and both giggling; a tickle-fight broke out and was developing along passionate lines when Serena's scraped cheek received an accidental bump and spoiled it for her.

'Ow; ow, _ow_. That really hurt, you great twit.' She turned away from him, covering it with her hand.

'I'm sorry ... let me see. Look, it's not bleeding. You're all right. I'll be really careful now.'

'I want to hear the rest of the story.' She was unco-operative.

'I really have to wonder about your priorities, my girl.'

'Come on, please?'

'I've just discovered you've taken off those trousers under here, and you want me to tell you a story?' He was giving in; he just wanted to tease her a bit more. 'Where am I up to?'

'You're fifteen and pissing off your father with your lack of fruit appreciation.'

'So things just weren't very good at home. And there was this girl I really liked who made a complete fool of me ... I felt like I could never show my face in town again ... so I just left home. I didn't run away, I said goodbye and everything, and Dad said fine, go and be an idiot, see where it gets you, and I said further than you've ever been, you old coot, and got on the back of a barge that was going to Pallas.'

'What was the girl like?'

'Well, with hindsight she was hard as nails, but I was young and dumb enough to think she was exciting. She was called Jule and she had black hair and green eyes and she pretended to like me to get to spend time with my cousin Jonty.'

'She obviously had no taste at all.' Serena kissed his cheek.

'Thank you. So I got down to Pallas, and I managed to get a job with a shipwright ... not a proper apprenticeship, you need connections to get those, but I could learn where I was and I thought it all looked pretty good, and I shared an attic with a butcher's assistant who brought home a lot of slightly imperfect sausages and a guy called Dai who was a rich man's son slumming it to annoy his father, and we all ate sausages for every meal and Dai bought us drinks and ... too many ands now, I'm starting a new sentence. I was too young to be away from home. I missed my family a surprising amount and I started drinking a lot and getting up to tricks to take my mind off it. The only smart thing I did in that time was learn to fly ... that's where Crash Test comes from. It was Dai's bird and he taught me for fun. Then one night he didn't come home, and I found him on the steps outside our building. He'd fallen over trying to get the door open when he was drunk, and cracked his head open on the corner of the step. When we were cleaning up his things we found a sort of will written on a piece of butcher paper the other guy had brought home ... I can't remember his name now ... and it said the butcherboy could have his collection of potatoes that looked like things, and I could have Crash Test. I do remember butcherboy calling him a dead git. And he was a git, but I'd quite liked him.

'And that night I went out drinking, in Dai's memory I reckoned, and somehow in the course of that night I decided it would be a really good idea to join the army. Please don't ask me how that worked because I don't know. I was full as a boot, I staggered into the recruiting station, they said sign there.'

'And next morning you woke up and realise what you'd done?'

'No, next morning I'd forgotten what I'd done and I never reported to the barracks they'd told me. Unfortunately I'd gotten my address right on the form so they came to get me. I was up at the Aviary and I was actually planning to fly home. I'd saved some money, mainly because until Dai died I'd never had to pay for my own drinks, and I figured I could go back without looking like a total failure. Butcherboy told them where I was and they came up there ... I only had time to give the caretaker what I had left and ask him to keep Crash Test where it was before they marched me off to have a man made of me. And that's really the whole story. I was a really half-assed soldier who never quite managed to get a dishonourable discharge ... I just ended up with the rest of the rejects out in the swamp ... until your brother got sent out there too. And I told you about that. Until then I was just drawing my pay and sending some back to the caretaker, some to my family, and kicking my heels until my term of service was up. Given that it's meant to be ten years ... well, it's still not up. I never had a direction till I met the Boss.'

'And he changed your life.' They were back in the part of the story she knew; she wanted to be sure she had it right.

'Yep.'

'What about the other women?' Serena propped herself on her elbow and looked at him severely.

'What other women?'

'Don't pretend to be thick. You must have had other girlfriends. I won't be jealous. Though of course I hate them all already.'

'Well yes. No-one I really loved. What I used to do was get a really hopeless crush on someone, I'd definitely think I was in love with her, and it'd wear off in a few weeks. It wasn't like this and they weren't like you. The things that have happened would have put me right off otherwise. If things were difficult with any of them I just thought oh well, bye then. And I never wanted to tell them I loved them the way I want to tell you, I never wanted to tell them all about how I was feeling and make promises and ... well, there was never anyone I wouldn't have been happy to live without. Now I feel like I have to live with you.'

'You really never fell in love before?' It just sounded too good; it was too wonderful to believe that she was the first and only one in his heart. He was half-laughing, embarrassed, but earnest.

'I'm telling you so. I ... look, do you know how _soppy_ I am about you? How I dream about you? I was watching you sleep last night and I thought that I didn't know it before, but I'd been waiting to meet you since I was born. Then I couldn't believe I'd thought something that sounded that drippy but I still thought it. I don't know why you're that special to me and there probably isn't a reason that makes sense in words, but that's how I feel now. You can see I'm not a really impressive person; I haven't had the kind of transforming life you and your brother have had.'

'Transforming life? You're bloody lucky. I don't think you'd like being turned into a girl ... but Allen didn't'

'I mean the kind of life where things happen that change you into a better person. You know? The big tests, and terrible things to endure, and you have to be noble to come through it. I've just had two people who really changed things for me, and both times that was just in ways of making me happier. Your brother and you. Because you are that kind of transformed person, and all your life you're going to change other people too. And he gets my loyalty and friendship, and you get my loyalty and love. If you want them. Oh crap ... that was scary to say.'

Serena was bewildered. 'But you've said it before; that you love me. You know that's all I want.'

'That was the first time I'd thought it all through like that, and just said it as I thought it. And ... well, you said something last night about being afraid I wouldn't love you if I really knew you. Of course I'm afraid of the same thing.'

'Well, don't be afraid.' She kissed him on the chin, then on the mouth. 'Because I want everything that you are.' _I think I'm finally getting it right._

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	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Scars on the Heart  
A story inspired by The Vision of Escaflowne**

**By Sarah Dove**

**Chapter Fourteen**

There was a lot to decide; a lot to determine. They talked about some of it over dinner that night: Millerna, Allen, Gadeth, Serena, Dryden, Cid and Van, although these last two seemed fairly subdued by everything that had happened and did not speak much. Millerna and Allen announced their intention to get married; they would combine the wedding with Millerna's coronation as Queen. Of course everyone congratulated them, Dryden as loudly as anyone. He continued to talk and joke in a lively way all through dinner, except that he scarcely touched any food after that. Everyone noticed, and he knew they had noticed. The atmosphere was becoming positively painful. Serena cast about for anything to say; it was hard to concentrate, because Gadeth was pressing his foot against hers under the table and looking innocent.

'I still don't understand,' she blurted out, 'what was wrong with Princess Elise. I mean, what was troubling her.'

Millerna's face fell a little. 'Well,' she said, 'I've been finding that out today, and I asked Dryden to look some things up for me. I've told him everything I learned; why don't you tell the story, Dryden?' She took a sip of her drink rather fast, and Allen moved his chair closer to hers, to hold her hand.

'Yes. Ahem,' said Dryden. 'This is not an easy story to tell; it's not one I really understand. The people involved are no longer with us, and perhaps it would be better if it passed with them.

'In her early teens, Elise went into a depression. No-one was really sure what it was about. Her mother had died when she was younger, but she'd seemed to grieve normally and get over it. She just seemed to turn in on herself. She'd write screeds in a diary and then tear pages out and burn them. And after a while she began to hurt herself. She'd make herself sick after meals, so her food couldn't do her any good. She'd hold her hand over a candle flame as long as she could. You remember those gold things she wore over her ears? I always thought they were just unusual jewellery, quite classy. But it appears that at one time, she decided her ears were too big, and tried to lop them with the schoolroom scissors. They weren't sharp enough and just sort of chewed up the cartilage. So the gold bits were to hide the scars.

'They kept her by herself a lot, so people wouldn't find out she'd gotten strange. And I suppose that made it worse. She moved on to a kind of seizure ... she'd just go stiff and stop breathing. In one of the surviving diary entries, she talks about dreams where she got out of her body. She thought she went flying, and wrote about wanting to get out and fly forever.

'Now, in Asturia, succession normally passes to the eldest son or daughter. And Elise was the eldest. But she was getting so strange, so self-destructive, that they had her removed from the succession, legally declared unfit by reason of insanity. All done very quietly, making Marlene next in line. And when Marlene died, Millerna. Once again, congratulations. These changes aren't made lightly and they're irrevocable. The problem was, Elise didn't stay mad. Just as no-one understood why she'd gone that way in the first place, no-one was clear on why she came back. The strange behaviour just faded away, and all that was left was that sort of sad air she had. And when she understood what had happened, it broke her heart ... her birth meant so much to her, and she really had wanted to be a good Queen.

'To try to make it up to her, King Aston made her his right-hand woman, so to speak. He gave her duties and responsibilities he wouldn't have given anyone else; made her special. But it seems like the pressure, with the knowledge that she never could be Queen, was more than she could bear. When he decided he wanted to reap the benefits of Zaibach's technology, he made her his liaison to the sorcerers, and I suppose what she heard from them put the lid on it. If there was anyone who would have wanted to change her fate, it was Elise. She had an old Zaibach dossier on Dilandau in her room. Perhaps she hoped she could become a different person too.'

Van was looking embarrassed at hearing another family's secrets. Cid's expression almost made Serena want to laugh; he looked as though he was thinking 'Bloody typical.' Millerna sat with her chin in her hand, her other hand holding Allen's. She was not crying; there was a quiet sorrow in her eyes, and for a minute she looked very like Elise. 

Cid came to say goodbye the next morning; he was leaving with Van.

'I'm going to see what they're doing to rebuild in Fanelia,' he told Serena as they walked in the garden. 'There's probably going to be a treaty soon, Fanelia, Freid and Asturia all together. And we'll try to get other countries to join. If we're all strong together, Basram may not be as much of a threat. And they're planning expeditions into Zaibach, to recover its science; not the fate stuff, no-one wants to touch that. But there was a lot more, wasn't there? And we want to use it to make people's lives better.'

'I hope you can,' Serena said. 'I don't know how well that will work out.'

'We'll just make it work out,' Cid said. He was confident and cheerful this morning. 'And if you're worried, you'll just have to get involved and help us. You know more about it than anyone. And you're going to be the new King's sister. They'll probably make you the Duchess of Something. That'll give you some influence.'

'That sounds good. Can you see Gadeth as a Duke?'

'You're not getting married too, are you?'

'I think we might eventually. Think of it as gaining an uncle.'

'I don't want to find out anyone else is related to me and I didn't know.'

'Keep your fingers crossed.'

Cid looked up at her. 'I think things are going to be all right. I know you're worried about people using things from Zaibach, but I keep thinking about something Hitomi said to me ... that people can make their dreams come true by believing in them. If we believe in a good future, we'll make it happen. Okay?'

'Okay.' It was hard to disagree with him; she wanted him to be right. 'I never really knew Hitomi. I wish I had.'

'Well, maybe she'll come back. I'm wishing for it.'

'Cid!' Van was calling from an archway. 'We're leaving. Come on.'

Cid turned to Serena; she bobbed down to hug him properly. 'I'll come and see you,' she promised as his short arms squeezed her. 'You can show me what you're doing with your country. I know you'll be great.'

'And I know you'll be the first Duchess who wears trousers all the time,' he said. 'G'bye.' He ran off to join Van. Serena waved goodbye to them both; Van half-waved back. She still wasn't sure what to do about him, but she had a whole life in which to work it out. As the two boy-rulers walked through the archway, they passed Dryden coming the other way. He was carrying a bulky pack and looked his old scruffy self again. Serena waited for him to reach her.

'I'm heading out again,' he said. 'On the road again, and all that. People need stuff and I'm going to sell it to them. When I've sold them all the stuff they need it's time to make them think they need new stuff. So I'm going around and saying my goodbyes.' He held out his hand for Serena to shake. She took it and held it.

'Are you going to be all right?' she asked. 'When they made the announcement last night, you looked'

'Listen, I'm used to it,' he assured her. 'I knew when I gave her back her ring what would happen. For a while I kept hoping that she'd stay free, that she'd wait for me, but it seems it just isn't meant to happen. It's a shame ... she's a wonderful woman ... but she's found the right man for her. If we weren't meant to be together, well, the right one for me must still be out there somewhere. Right?' He didn't look entirely convinced himself, but again, Serena wanted him to be right.

'Gadeth and I are going down to the sea for a while,' she said, 'for a holiday, to get all this out of our systems. To his uncle's house. You should come out and join us, after a couple of weeks, I mean,' she added, and blushed.

'I don't want to be the gooseberry,' Dryden said. 'Which I know I would be.' He smiled a little.

'Come anyway. It's a beautiful place. While we were there a pod of dolphins came right into the bay while we were swimming. Gadeth says there are even mermaids sometimes.'

'Mermaids?' Dryden repeated, and raised an eyebrow. 'I might drop by. Just to see the mermaids. But I really have to go. Trade waits for no man. So take care of yourself ... and of course, take care of Gadeth.' He waved to someone behind her and walked away.

'You'd better take care of me,' said Gadeth, picking her up from behind, hugging her round the waist, swinging her round. 'Keep me safe, keep me right, right?'

'Right.'

[**Click here to see the only bit of _Scars On the Heart_ art I ever did do...**][1]

**Epilogue**

The hilltop cemetery above Pallas is a quiet and peaceful place. When the wind blows from the sea, you can smell salt, hear seagulls. Puffball flowers grow among the graves and their soft seedheads spiral down over the city when the wind blows from the land. There's a lot of space that has not been filled. If you walk past the last markers, back towards the trees, and if you look around carefully, you may find a shady place where a plain block of white stone stands. Most people don't know it is there; if they did they would probably say it was in bad taste. But it was paid for by a very rich woman, and the bad taste of the very rich is merely eccentricity. Cut into the top of the block are these words:

This stone stands in memory of the Dragonslayers of Zaibach, and for all the youth lost to war. They will not grow old. 

Down the front face runs a list of their names. It is not a long list; it stops before the bottom of the slab. Fifteen boys and one beastman. But if you know to look at the very bottom of the stone, if you know to press down the grass at the base, you'll see one more piece of carving.

_Here rests Dilandau Albatou._

Serena Schezar has gone home.

**The End**

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